The Road Home Leads To You
by silver lametta
Summary: Pop band AU. "They were drawn together by the passion for music and by the time they became a household name, Castiel realized he was in love with his straight best friend." WARNINGS: Dean/Lisa, Castiel/Meg, Catiel/Others, Dean/Others, but all in the name of Destiel!
1. Chapter 1

_Every second is a lifetime  
>And every minute more brings you closer to God<br>And you see nothing but the red lights  
>You let your body burn like never before…<em>

"_Better than love," Hurts_

_xxx_

Music was everywhere.

Filled with thousands of breaths it floated through the air and mingled with the flickering lights, bouncing off the thick walls, intensified. It twisted and curled above thousands of heads, creating an invisible dome with a solitary world inside ruled by music and music alone. Uniting people within it, reverberating from their souls, it became visible in their eyes and on their faces. The energy they created together was pure and immense—tangible. While the music played nothing existed beyond it.

Castiel glanced at the crowd below that was going wild. Their upturned faces were filled with joy and admiration. He smiled, wiping sweat off his forehead and looked over his synthesizer at the man who stood in the flickering floodlights a few feet from him. As if feeling Castiel's gaze, Dean turned his head and their eyes met. He grinned. If the sounds the crowd made were any indication, the concert was going great.

People loved them, loved their music, but first of all they loved Dean. And what was there not to love? He was young and gorgeous; he smiled, joked, and flirted with them, melting and breaking their hearts all at once. He sang with fierce emotion, his graceful fingers grasping the microphone the way that had to be illegal in some countries. The girls in the front row devoured him with their eyes. Castiel couldn't blame them. One girl – a tall brunette with dark curls – smiled and winked at Dean when he was close to the edge of the stage, but it was hard to say whether he had noticed her. She stood out in the crowd, looking like a model that walked down runways in New York and stole attention from the clothes. Castiel knew that her heart, as well as the hearts of many other girls, belonged to Dean. In the world outside this mounting rhythm that seduced and overwhelmed he was just a man and the thousands of fans out there had little in common, but right there—right then they all belonged to Dean.

xxx

They made a beeline from the backdoor of the club for the car that waited for them, bodyguards preventing the screaming women of different ages from getting too close. Already in the safe confines of the vehicle, Dean peered through the window to the crowd outside going insane. Somebody pressed an 'I love you, Dean' sign to the glass which made both him and Castiel chuckle. It was all still new to them – fame, attention, love of the devoted fans – it was amusing and flattering. In every city they visited, thousands of strangers were waiting for them and for their music.

"Wow," Dean breathed out, throwing his head back on the leather seat. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was still damp after the quick shower he had taken in the dressing room. The car slowly filled with the smell of his shower gel.

"Best concert ever. Did you see their faces? I think a couple of girls in the front row passed out."

Castiel nodded. "Yes, I saw it. I'm sure it was because of your _charm_," he added, smirking. "The military might label you as a weapon of mass destruction."

Dean pouted, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder. "You like kicking my ego in the jewels, Cas?"

Castiel smiled and mirrored him, putting his head back on the leather upholstery. From this angle and with the stark lighting he could see the freckles standing out against Dean's pale, makeup-free skin.

"That's what I'm here for," he murmured, half closing his eyes. Dean let out a soft laugh.

Out of the two of them, Castiel knew that Dean was the one who enjoyed being famous. He liked being the center of people's attention. Liked giving out autographs and interviews. Liked it when people on the street recognized him. Liked meeting with fans and talking to them. He even created a twitter account. It was now a little more than a year since it all started but Dean didn't seem to be getting tired of the fame.

Castiel on the contrary didn't find the constant attention of strangers quite so appealing. He had always enjoyed being alone or among close friends. But the idea of thousands of people looking at him, discussing him, and trying to find details of his personal life was disturbing. Sometimes he thought that he and Dean were complete opposites. How they got along so well was truly a small miracle. But then, opposites are known to attract.

The car headed for their hotel. There was no afterparty that night so he could take a long shower, get under the expensive silk sheets, and get some sleep after an eight hours flight and a big concert. He breathed in deep and listened to the sounds of the city outside. This was something both he and Dean had always dreamt of before becoming famous – new places, new cities, each with its own history, unraveling before them in all of their glory – travelling was part of their job that neither he nor Dean could ever get tired of.

xxx

The hotel suite was bigger than Castiel's apartment back home. With the constant tours and other work related things within the last year he hadn't had time to find himself a new place.

The room was painted in light colors – white and ivory – and furnished with a giant television screen that occupied half of the wall, a fireplace, and an equally large white sofa in front of it that was begging him to take a long nap.

However, the first thing Castiel did was take a long shower, lingering under the hot spray as it eased the tension from his muscles. Colorful lights flickered behind his closed eyes their music and Dean's voice still circling in his head.

He shuffled from the bathroom when he felt himself nodding off. His suitcase was nowhere to be seen and he thought they had once again taken it to Dean's room by mistake. He wasn't even sure why he and Dean now needed two separate suits. There was a time when they shared a tiny room for weeks while working on their first songs. It was too expensive for them to travel across town every day so Castiel would stay at Dean's place. They'd barely slept using all their free time to write music, but when they did Castiel slept on the floor on a thin mattress in Dean's room. Now, having a giant suite all to himself was absurd. He thought about telling Chuck - the twitching guy who organized their trips and everything related - that it was unnecessary.

He grabbed a snowy white bathrobe and put it on, heading across the hallway to where he knew Dean's suite was. He heard music coming from the inside and figured Dean wasn't sleeping so he knocked, but nobody answered. Castiel knocked again and waited a moment but there was still no answer. Any other time he would have left and waited until morning but everything he traveled with was in that suitcase and he needed it now. He tried the door on the small chance it was unlocked and to his surprise it was. Castiel poked his head inside; the room was dimly lit.

"Dean?" He made a few steps inside and froze.

Dean was sitting on a sofa with his eyes half closed and his legs spread apart. Between them kneeled a woman, her head bobbing over him. Castiel hastily made his way back to the door, hoping to escape before he was noticed, but suddenly Dean called his name.

"Cas?"

The woman between his legs turned her head and glanced up and Castiel recognized her. It was the girl with curly dark hair he'd seen at their concert only a few hours ago, the one who had winked at Dean.

Castiel made a sound, he wasn't quite sure what it was, and darted out of the room towards his own suite. The purpose of his visit was forgotten.

Once in his room he slammed the door shut, pressing his back against its rigid surface and closed his eyes to regain some composure. He tried to breathe slowly and deeply through his nose, fighting the nausea, and willing his heart to stop racing.

It was a long time before he opened his eyes again and then he saw it. His suitcase was standing proudly next to the bedroom door. He hadn't noticed it before.

Hastily, he took off the bathrobe, throwing it to the floor and walked directly to the bedroom, ignoring the damned suitcase. He got under the cool covers and scrunched his eyes, trying to get rid of the images of Dean and that woman.

He heard the buzzing of the traffic outside – millions of sounds mixing into the living organism of the city. He could hear noises coming from the hallway – guests returning to their rooms or going out for the night – chatting, laughing, enjoying themselves. Life was everywhere around.

Life was fantastic.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's notes:** For those of you who were wondering, yes I have changed my nick name a while ago. Please don't be startled :)

**xxx**

Castiel woke to a throbbing pain in his head. He hardly managed to take an aspirin before someone knocked on his door.

"You look like crap," Chuck Shurley announced from the hallway after giving Castiel a once over.

Chuck belonged to the category of people who neglected any kind of social formalities. He called everyone 'man' or 'dude', ignoring hostile looks shot in his direction. He got those often considering that he worked in show business where people preferred to be treated with trepidation. Castiel, however, had never cared about social norms and he wasn't going to start caring now.

"I haven't slept well," he mumbled, letting Chuck in. "New place and all that."

"Gotta get used to it, man. 'Tis part of the job." The shorter man shuffled into the room, stopping to help himself with Castiel's breakfast he picked at a croissant from the porcelain plate. "Anyway, I'm here to make sure you get to the interview before the rehearsal. If we're late again I swear Alastair will really bite my head off this time."

The only person Chuck feared, and through that fear respected, was their manager Alastair. It didn't surprise Castiel given that the man was downright creepy. True, he was good at what he did. Castiel and Dean would still be two back road guys with dreams and unfulfilled ambition if Alastair hadn't found them. But sometimes he thought there was something off with Alistair, something shady that had given Castiel second thoughts on signing with him. If life were a TV show, Alastair would play the villain.

Castiel assured Chuck he'd be ready in fifteen.

"Good." He looked relieved. He washed the croissant down with a cup of coffee and headed for the door. "I'll go wake up Dean. Bet he had one Hell of a night_._" Chuck grinned and Castiel's stomach made an uneasy lurch towards his throat.

Of course Chuck knew about the girl. He was the one who made sure the band was 'entertained' during their time off. He couldn't blame the man – he was doing his job.

When Chuck finally left, Castiel took a cold shower and downed a cup of black coffee. He fished out his softest pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that clung comfortably to his shoulders. He felt refreshed and less likely to have a break down during the rehearsal.

The car was already waiting outside, but Castiel had to wait ten minutes before Dean finally showed.

There was no trace of awkwardness and his movements were full of energy. Castiel could feel his brows lifting; Dean was also wearing jeans and a black t-shirt similar to his own. It looked as if they'd dressed to match.

"Hey," Dean grinned, looking up and down over Castiel's clothes. His smile faded. "Cas, last night…"

Castiel opened his mouth, preparing to say it was 'all right', to tell the story about his suitcase and that it was 'no big deal' – it wasn't even the first time he's walked in on Dean with women - but at that moment Chuck opened the passenger door and took the front seat, rushing for the driver to hurry because they were once again late. The conversation was interrupted without even starting. Castiel caught Dean looking at him a few times. They spent the ride in silence, listening to Chuck rambling.

At the studio where the interview would take place Dean made another attempt to talk.

"You're quiet," he muttered, looking sideways at Castiel.

They sat on a black leather sofa surrounded by people - assistants attaching their microphones and applying makeup – and in Castiel's opinion, an even worse place to talk than the car.

"Didn't sleep well. Those beds are awful."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, right. And the crap you slept on back at my place a year ago was so much better. Didn't notice you having problems then. Seriously Cas, what is it?" At least he wasn't trying to discuss yesterday's incident again.

As it turned out it was Castiel's lucky day, because this time a woman interrupted them and introduced herself as Becky Rosen, the interviewer. In an instant Dean went from questioning Castiel to focusing on her.

In the past year the interviews have stuck to a routine. It had been fun at first but at some point the questions became repetitive. It was like the interviewers suffered from severe cases of poor imagination and simply copied questions from one another.

The red dot on the camera blinked into life and Becky smiled, introducing them.

"Our guests today are 'The Leads' and I'm here in our studio with Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak," she turned to face the men on the sofa. "Guys, first of all, why 'The Leads'? Is there any story behind the name?"

Like many other interviews, the first question was a standard one. It was Dean who answered.

"It just sounded good," he explained. "And it could be interpreted in few ways. I like it." He paused and added, "Maybe it doesn't fit our style, but it's a Hell of a lot better than the pretentious bullshit Cas came up with." He and the interviewer laughed.

"I thought you liked my pretentious bullshit," Castiel chimed in, feeling his lips twitching against his will.

"I do, actually," Dean confessed to the woman, casting a brief glance at Castiel.

"I've heard you two met in a bar fight, is that right?" Another routine question. Everybody already knew the story.

As if it was the first time somebody asked for it, Dean answered with enthusiasm. "Not exactly in a fight. Our brothers got in a fight at the bar where I worked back then. We never threw any punches, just made sure they didn't kill each other. We started talking and found out we liked the same music. Other than that we probably couldn't be more different, but somehow we became friends."

It sounded ridiculous, but it was the truth. Castiel remembered Gabriel's face splattered with blood and his body twitching while a tall boy with mussed hair and overgrown limbs was punching him with no mercy in the alley behind the bar. Later Castiel had found out that the reason for the fight had been Sam's girlfriend, Jess – Gabriel was hitting on her despite her boyfriend's anger. It was hilarious because now, six years later, Sam and Gabriel were happily together. They were the sweetest and the most irritating couple in the world. Castiel couldn't help but smile at the memory, realizing that he hasn't called his brother in weeks. He'll have to once he gets a moment to himself.

Absorbed in his thoughts he missed the next question, but thankfully Dean answered it as well. He told the interviewer which bands influenced their music – another question they'd been asked a thousand times before. Then there were questions about their tours. Which was their best concert? What other cities were they planning to visit? What city did they enjoy the most? When were they planning to release their new album?

After those there were the questions from the fans. These were always more personal.

"Have you guys found the women of your dreams?" Becky asked with a flirtatious smile.

Castiel thought that Dean had found four or five women of his dreams on their way to the studio alone, but he kept his mouth shut. They both said that they were still looking. The interviewer brightened up and turned to the camera to inform the fangirls that they still had a chance.

"One last question," she said looking down at her notes. "Oh, that's a tough one! If you could compare each other to any supernatural creature, what would it be?"

Dean let out a chuckle. "Like elves or dwarfs or something?" He looked at Castiel, an amused smile playing on his lips. "I don't know any other _supernatural creatures, _do you? I'm pretty sure you're too tall to be an elf or a dwarf."

"Vampires or werewolves maybe?" Castiel suggested, smiling back at him. "I think you could be a vampire."

Dean grinned. "It's because I'm sexy, right?" Becky snorted into her bottle of water at that. "I don't sparkle though." The fans would love the interview.

Castiel caught the playful tone. "Don't flatter yourself Dean, it's because you have the knack to make women suddenly anemic and faint. Fans should know about this."

"Castiel would be a werewolf then?" Becky asked Dean.

Dean shook his head. "No. Cas…" He paused, his face becoming serious. "I think Cas would be an angel."

Castiel thought he'd misheard, but as he watched Becky's eyebrows fly up towards her hairline he clearly hadn't. "An _angel_? Why?"

Dean shrugged. "If it weren't for him, I'd still be working in that bar. I didn't believe anything great would happen to me, but Cas did. He made me believe that I could be something. He made me believe we could write music, do what we love instead of finding a boring 9 to 5 job and a life without music. You could say he raised me from my own Hell." Dean's cheeks were flushed. Castiel was suddenly very aware of how hot the studio was.

"That's such a wonderful story," Becky wiped the corners of her eyes.

The interview ended and Castiel couldn't be more thankful to get out of the room. His throat was dry and it was hard to swallow.

**xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**xxx**

They were late to rehearsal thanks to Chuck who spent half an hour flirting with Becky after the interview. The rest of the band were waiting impatiently when they arrived.

Although 'The Leads' only had two official members – Castiel and Dean - they collaborated with other musicians in their concerts, wanting to make a better show for the fans.

At first the musicians changed from concert to concert, but Alastair settled on a group who travelled with 'The Leads' regularly.

The drummer Ash had 'Dr. Badass' tattooed across his shoulder. Castiel didn't know much about him only that he'd once attended MIT and got kicked out 'for fighting'.

Andy Gallaher was the guitarist. Before coming to play with 'The Leads' he lived in a blue van with a barbarian queen painted on the side. He carried an old bong everywhere, claiming it was his 'lucky charm'.

Then there was the opera singer Balthazar – a British man who wore v-necks, most likely thinking they suited him although they didn't. Balthazar was smart, funny, and all in all a good guy and Castiel liked him.

The three men had already settled on the stage, warming up.

"Hey guys," Ash called from behind his drum set, a wolfish grin spreading on his face. "Me and Andy are wondering here just how awesome your night was. That chick looked damn hot."

Castiel tried not to roll his eyes at that. Everyone had some sort of odd obsession about Dean's sexual adventures.

"I appreciate your concern over my sex life Dr. Badass, but I'm not giving you any details."

Dean had an endless amount of sex escapades – everybody in their inner circle knew that – but he never discussed them and never let himself talk about any woman with anything resembling disrespect. That was one of the many things Castiel appreciated about him.

Ash sighed. "A shame. She reminded me of that girl I dated back at MIT. She did this trick with ping-pong balls—"

"—Oh, for God's sake! Shut up," Balthazar interrupted him. "No one here wants to know that."

Balthazar was gay and didn't hide it, but Castiel knew that wasn't the reason he didn't let Ash talk about his sexual adventures. His stories were crude and misogynous. The only other person who liked them was Andy. Fortunately, they had little time for the rehearsal so Ash didn't insist on sharing the details.

Rehearsing that day was pure pleasure – the sound in the club was excellent and there were no problems with the equipment. The other day they'd spent two hours tuning the instruments.

They started with Castiel's favorite song. He loved it not only because it was the first song they ever wrote, but also because this was his chance to play the guitar. In all other songs he was sanctioned to the keyboard and let Andy play the guitar.

After the first chorus Castiel stood up from his spot behind the synthesizer and took his guitar. It was his favorite moment – the crowd always started to scream in delight when he did it, already knowing what would follow.

While Dean sang the hardest part of the song, his voice reaching high octaves, Castiel walked across the stage to the edge. In a few hours thousands of people would be standing there, reaching out for him and screaming even louder as he bends over the crowd his face stone-cold, expressionless while the sounds coming from his guitar rip the air into pieces.

Dean stood mere feet away – singing with the imaginary crowd, throwing the microphone prop, his emotions raw and open. Even on stage the two of them were complete opposites, but somehow it seemed to work.

Castiel walked to the drum set in the back of the stage and stopped there for a few seconds before walking past Balthazar and returning to the front to stand next to Dean. The song headed towards its climax and Castiel's heart was beating so hard he thought it might jump out of his throat. Dean finished the last chorus and fell to his knees, eyes closed, beads of sweat rolling down his temples. Castiel knew it wasn't an act – Dean's emotions were real and he didn't hide them while on stage. There was no point hiding from music.

When the song's climax passed and the music started fading Dean stood up again, singing the last words. Usually he bowed his head at this part and Castiel did the same, forcing the last cords from his guitar, but this time it was different.

Dean turned and closed the small distance between them, pressing his forehead to Castiel's temple with the last words dying on his lips. Castiel was so surprised he barely managed to finish playing, fingers numb and irresponsive. Dean's warm breath tickled his damp skin, soft lips close to his cheek. The gesture was simple and intimate, but before Castiel could think that it's the closest they had ever been to each other the song ended and Dean moved away.

Castiel's face burned hot and he pretended to struggle with a tangled wire for a few seconds to gain composure before looking up.

Ash was the one to break the silence. "Dude, that was awesome!"

"Yeah," Dean murmured into a towel, wiping the sweat off his face. "Great sound. What do you think Cas?"

Castiel had to look up knowing his face was still flushed. "It was good, yes." His voice was steady for which he was thankful. He wasn't going to ask Dean what it was all about. Maybe Dean got so immersed in the music that it became too much and he leaned on Castiel on a whim. He ignored the pleasant flutter in his stomach.

"By the way, did you like the forehead thing?" Dean asked, grinning. "I thought fans would love that. It's like the emotions are too much and we reach out to each other for support. They'll think it's cute, right?"

Castiel felt like a bucket of ice had just been dumped on him. He summoned all his self-restraint to hide the disappointment from his face.

"Yes, Dean. I think they'll like it."

It turned out Castiel was wrong. The fans didn't like it. They loved it. They screamed in pure ecstasy when during the concert Dean pressed their heads together, singing right into Castiel's ear - only for him as if they were the only two people in the world and thousands of people weren't looking at them, catching their every movement and every breath. The crowd kept roaring long after they parted and the song ended.

Alastair was pleased. He burst into their dressing room after the concert, announcing that it was a huge success, the Internet buzzing about it. The Leads trended on Twitter - Castiel didn't know what that meant, but judging by Dean's grin it was something good.

"Your little trick worked boys." Alastair smiled, displaying two rows of sharp teeth. "Women love touchy-feely men. Good work."

That night they had an afterparty in a suite booked for that purpose. When Castiel arrived it was already full of people. Some of the faces were familiar – the crew, with their boyfriends and girlfriends, that travelled with The Leads and a couple dozen of good-looking men and women. Castiel wasn't sure where Chuck had found them, but there had always been new faces at every party.

Ash and Andy were surrounded by a group of gorgeous women. Balthazar had cornered a dark haired boy that Castiel hoped was of age.

Dean's face appeared in the crowd, smiling at him. "Hey Cas." A tall brunette with a familiar face clung to his elbow.

"Glad you didn't decide to ditch us this time. I want you to meet someone." Dean nodded to the girl. "Do you remember Lisa?"

At the mention of the name Castiel remembered the girl from one of the previous afterparties who left with Dean. This was new – he had never seen Dean twice with the same woman before.

He smiled and took Lisa's hand. "Of course I do."

Dean turned to another woman that Castiel hadn't noticed at first. She was a skinny redhead with porcelain skin and big blue eyes. She wasn't as confident as other women there and when Castiel shook her hand her cheeks turned pink.

"Cas, this is Anna. Lisa's friend. Big fan of yours." Dean winked at him.

Castiel did his best not to let out a bitter laugh.

He had never talked about his sexuality to anyone besides Gabriel. And even with him Castiel had no choice – his brother figured it all out by himself. Even his parents didn't know he was gay.

It wasn't because he was ashamed. The first time he admitted to himself that he was gay was the day he decided to come out to his family. He never intended to hide who he was, but before he could broach the subject he met Dean and his life took off in a very different direction.

They were drawn together by the passion for music and by the time they became a household name, Castiel realized he was in love with his straight best friend. He couldn't have come out then. He couldn't risk ruining their friendship, their developing careers for a feeling he knew Dean couldn't reciprocate. As time passed Castiel became convinced he made the right choice.

He knew if he stopped hiding he was gay Dean would put two and two together. All those nights spent writing music, sleeping in the same room, sharing meals and long talks in the dark when inspiration didn't come – Dean would see all that in different light. They wouldn't be friends after that. Dean would be disgusted. The Leads would without a doubt disband because of his secret.

Castiel didn't care about fame and the impossible amounts of money they've earned – he already had more than he could ever spend. Dean, however, dreamt of being famous and sharing their music with the world and Castiel couldn't risk ruining it.

So there he was smiling with the girl Dean thought he might like and tried his best to be interested, feeling shame wash over him.

He knew that Dean and the rest of the band assumed he was some sort of a camel who could go without sexual intercourse for years. Castiel was neither a saint nor celibate, he just knew how to cover his tracks. Finding a one night stand had never been a problem – he was attractive and both men and women had pestered him long before he became rich and popular. The only difference was that now he had to be more careful. The last thing he wanted was to find his bare ass on the front page of a magazine and then have to explain it to the people he cared about. Luckily, his money could provide the confidentiality he needed.

A relationship, though, was out of question. With the near constant traveling it was impossible to have a stable relationship. Castiel didn't regret the consequences of his career – the only person he wanted to be with wasn't interested anyways.

They spent most of the party drinking and chatting – it was all they were capable of after two exhausting concerts in two days. Castiel was glad that for once Dean didn't hit ten girls at a time, but spent the evening with him even though Lisa and Anna were there, too.

Anna was a great girl – beautiful and smart – and if Castiel didn't bat for home team he would have fallen for her instantly. She had expressive blue eyes that stood out against pale skin. Her facial features were too sharp for a girl, but nonetheless exquisite. He suspected that Dean liked her, too, but he didn't show it in front of Lisa. He wondered whether it meant that Dean and Lisa were dating – he'd never seen Dean do something like that for any other girl.

He studied Lisa who was sitting in Dean's lap on the big couch all four of them occupied. He tried to figure out what distinguished her from all other girls Dean had been with. He could think of nothing. She looked like all the other women, model looks, but nothing distinguishing.

"Hey, Cas." Dean interrupted his thoughts. "I don't wanna upset you man, but Meg is here and I think she's looking for you."

Meg Masters was a rich socialite, living off her father's money. She was famous for her scandalous behavior, never missing a party, and had slept with every man she knew except for Castiel. Which was why she had stalked him for months, never missing a chance for another try to get him into bed.

Castiel groaned in horror. "Did she see me?" He cursed under his breath.

Dean laughed at his reaction. "I think she did. Sorry."

"Castiel," Meg approached them, swaying her hips. "There you are, sugar." She didn't even seem to notice Anna sitting next to him.

Castiel nodded. "Good to see you Meg." Dean snorted.

"Hey Dean." She gave him a playful look. "New girl again? Guess some things never change, right baby?"

Lisa's face darkened.

"Go to hell, Meg," Dean's voice was calm. No one took her words seriously – it was the way she was.

Meg grinned. "With pleasure. But I'm taking this little angel with me." She turned back to Castiel. "My room is right next to yours, baby. Just thought I'd let you know."

Within months of stalking Castiel found out that stubborn politeness was the best weapon against her. "I appreciate the courtesy Meg, but I remain uninterested."

"I'll leave the door open anyways in case you change your mind."

"Maybe in the next life," Dean chimed in, tearing away from kissing Lisa who looked annoyed with Meg's presence.

"Careful Dean," Meg gave him an impish smile. "Otherwise I might have an accidental slip of the tongue. If you know what I mean." She gave them one last wink and sauntered off into the crowd.

Lisa frowned, looking down at Dean. "What did she mean by that?"

He shrugged. "How should I know? She's crazy." Despite his words, Dean's face turned red and he leaned in to kiss her again, cutting off the next question.

Castiel wondered why Dean would react like that to something Meg had said. Lisa didn't look stupid or naïve. Even if she pretended to not know, she most likely suspected that he slept with her already.

They kept making out for a while, leaving Castiel and Anna in an uncomfortable silence, tension eased only by the loud music. Castiel couldn't help but stare at them, despite feeling like acid was burning a hole through his chest.

Lisa straddled Dean's lap, and from his spot Castiel could see that his eyes were dark, lips red and swollen, blood coloring his freckled cheeks. The view alone made Castiel's heart race. As if feeling his stare, Dean opened his eyes and for a moment they met with Castiel's.

The painful combination of longing and desperation twisted Castiel's insides and he looked away.

Anna stared into nowhere, giving Dean and Lisa some privacy. Castel felt bad for her, but could do nothing about it. He excused himself, muttering something unintelligible, and headed for the bathroom.

He splashed cold water over his face, enjoying the way it cooled his flushed skin, trying not to think of Dean, not to imagine himself in Dean's lap, kissing him…

He stopped and looked up to his reflection in the mirror, panting He was pathetic. He could afford anything, anyone, but the only thing he wanted was the only thing he could never get.

He shouldn't have come to the party. He knew this would happen. He knew he'd see Dean with another woman, but he still came. The longing was unbearable.

The only thing he could do was to find someone to help him forget, at least for a while. He couldn't do it here though.

Decision made, he left the bathroom. Dean and Lisa were nowhere to be seen. Anna had left as well and Castiel felt a sliver of guilt for leaving her alone.

He moved through the crowd, trying to leave unnoticed. Andy had fished out his bong, showing it to those who hadn't seen it yet. Meg was making out with a guy Castiel had never seen. Ash had passed out on a couch.

At the door he heard a familiar voice call him.

"There you are, Cassie!" Balthazar took him by the elbow. "If you're looking for your boyfriend I saw him leave with the brunette girl. I believe they went up to his room."

Sometimes Castiel wondered whether Balthazar joked or if he knew what Castiel was. His tone was always playful, but the subtle implications hit close to home too often.

"I wasn't looking for Dean."

Balthazar smiled. "Good. Then maybe you'd like to join us and have a beer or two?"

'Us' included Balthazar and his little harem that now consisted of four young boys. The last thing Castiel wanted was to get drunk in that company, get himself compromised, and make things even worse than they already were.

"Thanks, but I've already had enough alcohol." With effort he managed to escape from Balthazar's tight grip. "I think I'll go get some sleep."

"If you say so. We'll be here if you change your mind." He gave Castiel another smile and returned to his harem.

Castiel didn't go up though, eager to leave the hotel as soon as possible. Finding a local strip club didn't take much time – he saw one on the way from the concert and had made a note of it's location.

Hiring a hooker was of course much easier, but the last thing Castiel wanted now was to have sex with someone who only wanted his money. Besides hookers were often greedy and if they recognized him they could start demanding more or even blackmail him.

All he needed was a stripper who didn't mind blowing some steam off after their shift. Castiel didn't even have to pay – one look and they willingly followed him to the restroom.

He chose the stripper the second he saw him – blond hair a little longer than he would prefer, tall, eyes framed with long eyelashes. At a closer look they turned out to be green, which made his decision final.

Castiel caught him on his way from the dressing room, offering to buy him a drink. He wasn't afraid to be recognized in the dimmed light of the club, but was relieved when he saw no recognition in the man's eyes.

One hour and five drinks later they stumbled into the restroom, fumbling with their clothes, and the long awaited bliss clouded Castiel's mind. The rest was a blur – cold tile, ragged breaths, warm hands everywhere at once, somebody's voice moaning Dean's name.

Only later did Castiel realize the voice was his own.

**xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thank you guys for the lovely reviews! They inspire me to write faster =) Here's chapter 4!

**xxx**

Luckily Castiel had enough sense to not bring the stripper back to the hotel with him.

The ride back somewhat sobered him up. By the time he reached his suite he managed to stand and think straight. Without turning the lights on he started undressing for a shower, wanting to wash the dirt off his body. It felt disgusting.

He was halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when somebody knocked on the door. He ignored it, hoping that if he kept quiet the person in the hallway would leave, but the knocking persisted.

"C'mon Cas, I know you're there. I heard you coming." Dean said, his voice muffled and quiet.

Castiel hesitated before opening the door.

"Hey." Dean stood barefoot on the thick carpet, wearing only jeans and an old Blue Oyster Cult t-shirt, a sheepish smile spreading on his face. "You mind if I come in?"

"Why are you here?" The question came out harsh. Castiel blamed the alcohol and Dean's homely look that sent a very familiar warmth coursing through his chest.

"The party moved to my room. It's too noisy so I snuck off while no one was looking. Thought I could hang out here for a while." Dean stepped into the room without invitation, casting sideways glances at him. "Why's it dark in here?"

"Because the lights are off."

Dean laughed. "Where've you been?"

"I took a walk."

"A walk, huh?" Dean took in his appearance, his rumpled clothes, and the half unbuttoned shirt. "Are you drunk?"

"No… Yes." Maybe he was drunker than he thought. "I was going to take a shower."

"Sure, go ahead." Dean waved his hand towards the bathroom. "I'll watch the TV. Do you mind if I turn on the lights?"

"Actually I do." He hoped Dean would think he had an early hangover and was sensitive to the light. Castiel didn't want him to see the many hickeys that he knew covered his neck and chest.

Dean laughed again.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just… I've never seen you this drunk before." There was amusement in his voice. "You sure you don't need any help?"

"Thanks, but I think I can manage to take my pants off on my own." Castiel forced his mouth to shut up before he said something else.

"Sure about that? You've been struggling with that button for a minute already." Castiel knew rather than saw Dean raising his eyebrows in the dark, his lips curving into a smug smile. "Here, let me help."

He stepped closer, standing inches away, and reached out to move Castiel's hands away from his shirt. His fingers ghosted over the bruised skin as he worked each button open.

Castiel held his breath. The darkness that surrounded them intensified all senses. If Dean hadn't noticed the smell of sex before, he did now. Thankfully he didn't say anything.

They never discussed their sex life. Castiel wasn't sure whether it was strange or not. Other than that they knew everything about each other - Castiel knew Dean was afraid of flying although he tried to hide it, knew Dean would sing '_Hey Jude'_ every time he showered, the hierarchy of his favorite pies, and the best episodes of Dr. Sexy.

Dean switched to the buttons of the cuffs. "You're grumpy when you're drunk." It sounded as if he made a little revelation, as if he catalogued the things he knew about Castiel as well as Castiel catalogued the things he knew about him. The thought made Castiel's insides all fuzzy although he knew it was unlikely true.

When he finished Castiel attempted to take a step away, but Dean didn't let him, grabbing the hems of the shirt and pulling it off in one smooth motion. Castiel jumped in surprise when Dean placed a hand on his jean's button.

"Relax! I'm not gonna bite you." Dean popped the button open and stepped away. "What are you wearing, orange underwear or something?"

Dean was right – from his perspective there was nothing to be nervous about. They'd shared dressing rooms thousands of times before and had seen each other naked just as many. Castiel had learnt to act like it didn't affect him, even when Dean hopped out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water glistening on his torso. He knew exactly how much time to look – if he turned away too quick or didn't look at all Dean would realize that something bothered him, but if he stared too long Dean would figure it out as well.

Castiel even accustomed himself to changing his clothes with Dean in the same room and any other time he would've managed to remain calm, but tonight was different. Tonight he was tired and miserable, and every cell of his body was sore and sensitive. Besides, he was drunk and didn't trust himself.

"Thanks." He started to retreat towards the bathroom.

"Think you can manage with the zipper?" It was hard to tell whether Dean was serious or joking. Castiel wasn't going to try and find out.

"Yes. Thank you. I'll be right back."

"Take your time." Dean hopped on the white sofa that could accommodate twenty people and reached for the remote control.

Castiel took an icy cold shower, scrubbing his body clean until he was red and sore. He got out twenty minutes later, putting on one of the hotel's soft bathrobes, too tired to look for proper clothes and shuffled into the living room to find Dean still on the couch, dozing off with an old episode of Dr. Sexy blaring in the background. Castiel sat on the opposite side of the sofa, tucking up his legs beneath himself.

Dean lifted his head. "Hey." He took in Castiel's appearance and smiled. "You look like a couch tumor. I don't think I've ever seen someone blend into furniture so well."

Castiel grew warm. It had been a long time since it was just the two of them.

Nowadays they were always surrounded by people - managers, assistants, hairdressers, journalists, photographers, fans. They didn't belong to themselves anymore. Suddenly with all his heart Castiel wished he was nineteen again and they were just two guys from a small town with a big dream.

He remembered the day he told his religious father he decided to be in a band and dedicate his life to music. They had a huge fight, his mother cried, and eventually his parents kicked him out of house in the middle of the night. Castiel had nowhere to go, but at some point, exhausted and frozen to the bones in a thin t-shirt, he found himself in front of 'The Roadhouse' – the bar where he met Dean only a week before.

Luckily it was Dean's shift that night. He gave Castiel a once over and let him in without any question. Later, Dean told him he was afraid Castiel would collapse in the back room of the bar – he had been shivering right down to his toes.

Dean had listened to his incoherent explanations, fixed him a tuna sandwich, and told him _'everything is going to be all right'_. Castiel hated tuna, but he ate the sandwich, too shocked to care about the taste. It was only the second time they met and within hours of that night they had decided to make a band.

Dean hadn't been entirely truthful with Becky Rosen. Castiel might have pulled him form hell, but if it weren't for Dean he wouldn't have had the strength to do it in the first place.

"I can't even remember the last time we sat like this," Dean voiced Castiel's thoughts. He turned away from the screen where Dr. Piccolo was telling Dr. Sexy he was a 'brilliant coward'. "I was thinking, we don't have any concerts till next week. Maybe we could go home for the weekend? You know, throw a little party at the Roadhouse, just family and friends. Ellen and Bobby won't mind closing the bar for a night. And maybe Sam and Gabriel could come, too. I haven't seen him in ages."

Castiel missed his family. It took them time to accept his career, which only happened when The Leads first album went platinum. He wondered whether Dean remembered that this weekend would be the sixth year anniversary of their band.

"I think it's a wonderful idea, Dean. I'll call Gabriel tomorrow."

Dean grinned, his brilliant white teeth shining from the light of the television. "Awesome."

Eventually he fell asleep– half sitting and half lying on the sofa and was woken up by Lisa who had come looking for Dean. Castiel was too tired to wonder how she knew where to look for him.

**xxx**

Nothing had changed in the small town since the last time he'd been there. He couldn't imagine spending all his life here – he would've gone mad.

His parents were once again out of town on a business trip and for the first time in his life Castiel couldn't blame them for being constantly away. His own apartment seemed even smaller. Filled with old clothes he didn't need anymore and with the expensive swag from his new life, which he didn't need either. He didn't know why he kept postponing looking for a new apartment. He obviously needed one.

The only place that really felt like home was The Roadhouse. As soon as he walked through the doorway late in the evening, a cloud of strawberry scented blond hair attacked him.

"Castiel!" Jo wrapped her arms around his neck, threatening to suffocate him. As well as her mother she possessed a disarming force in a deceptively fragile build. "Mom! Cas is here!"

Castiel smiled, returning the hug.

"Hello, Jo. Haven't seen you at our concerts for a while. Didn't you get the tickets we've been sending?"

Jo sighed. "I did, but now that you guys are 'superstars' it kind of became awkward for me to go to your concerts. I can't stand two hours in a crowd of horny women if every single one of them wants to molest my brothers."

Jo grew up together with Sam and Dean and their families were very close. Soon after meeting Dean, Castiel became part of that family.

The girl finally let him go and made a step back to let her mother hug him. Ellen wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Hey there, kiddo. How're you doing? I'm planning to even our score tonight." Drinking competitions between Castiel and Ellen had become a tradition over the years.

"I'm looking forward to it."

Ellen gave him a once over. "Have you been forgetting to eat again? You look even thinner than the last time I saw you! Where the hell is Dean? When you boys were leaving home he promised me he'd take care of you. He's been doing a damn piss-poor job."

Before she could go on a rant about Castiel's appearance her husband interrupted her, appearing behind the bar counter.

"Seen you boys on TV last night. Wondered when you two idjits would give up this stupid idea and get a real job."

No matter how successful Dean and Cas were no matter how much money they made Bobby Singer still thought writing music was just a weird hobby and someday they would get real jobs like fixing cars or running a bar.

Castiel smiled, happy with the fact that some things never change. "It's nice to see you too, Bobby."

Old friends and extended family continued rolling into the Roadhouse. An hour later the place was packed.

Castiel heard somebody shout, "There's my little bro!" behind his back before two strong arms were wrapping around his waist, forcing the air from his lungs. When he finally managed to turn around Gabriel's face was smiling up at him. "Why haven't you called Cassie? I've been worried about you man!"

"Don't listen to him Cas. He's been worried only half the time. The other half he spent at his precious porn studio while I was studying my brains out."

Sam stood behind Gabriel taller than the last time Castiel had seen him.

Gabriel noticed his surprise. "I know, right? He just keeps growing even though I ask him to stop. At some point he'll just be too big and I don't know if I'll be able to take the girth."

Castiel ignored the innuendo. "How's Stanford Sam?"

"Great, it's great. Exhausting, though, but it's worth it. Dean said your last concert was a huge hit."

Castiel shrugged. "So says Alastair."

"You guys still with that douche-nozzle? He gives me the willies. You should ditch him the first chance you get."

"It's not that easy, Gabriel. We have a contract. Besides, we owe him everything." They'd had that conversation many times before. Although Gabriel knew how show business worked he refused to understand why Alastair still managed them.

"Doesn't make him less creepy. By the way, where's Dean-o?"

"He called and said he'll arrive later with his parents. He told me he has a surprise, but he didn't say exactly what."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, that's kind of the point of a surprise."

Castiel wondered what it could be. Dean carefully avoided answering him. Maybe he had been right and Dean remembered about the Leads' anniversary. In the past, Dean would make him a tuna sandwich and they would drink beer on the roof. Maybe this year he decided to do something different.

Soon he noticed Mary and John Winchester in the crowd that within the last half an hour had grown even larger.

"Castiel!" Mary hugged him and patted his cheek. "It's so good to see you. Dean was telling us about those crazy fangirls that are stalking you. I still can't get used to seeing my boys on the TV. I'm so proud of you!" She hugged him again. "And it was such a surprise when Dean brought his girlfriend to meet us. She's such a nice girl! I was always worried Dean would end up with someone who would spoil him."

Castiel's insides chilled. He looked over Mary's shoulder. Across the bar Dean was standing at the counter, talking to Bobby, and on his right stood Lisa.

"Cas? Cas honey, are you okay?" Mary was shaking his shoulder, her eyes concerned. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"I…" He didn't know what to say, his mind suddenly empty.

Dean hit a fork against his glass a few times, drawing everyone's attention.

"Guys. I'd like to say a few things." When everyone went quiet and looked in his direction he continued, "First of all I'm very happy to see my family and my closest friends here tonight. Thank you so much for coming! Second, I have a little surprise for you guys." He took Lisa's hand, keeping his eyes on the people around. "I'd like you all to meet my girlfriend Lisa."

For a moment nobody said anything, but then they started applauding and a murmur of approval went through the crowd. He heard Jo mutter, "What the…" but Ellen cut in with a menacing, "Joanna Beth!" and the girl went quiet.

The crowd moved and went to meet Lisa, welcoming her to their hometown. Castiel saw his brother studying him and turned away. Gabriel knew. He never told him about his feelings for Dean, but he knew. Castiel didn't care, not now. He stood in the middle of the bar his feet heavy anvils, unable to move.

He glanced at Lisa and Dean who chatted, laughed, and looked genuinely happy. They looked wonderful together – his blond hair complimented her dark locks, both were tall and good-looking.

A sudden realization dawned upon him. He could see their future – a future with a picket fence, two kids, and a dog. Dean would give up singing and would write music from home to spend more time with his family. Castiel could see them having guests at their perfect house and visiting John and Mary. He could see Sam and Gabriel coming over for Thanksgiving and Christmas. They'd have everything and the only thing that wouldn't have a place in their future was Castiel.

Of course at first it wouldn't be like that. At first Castiel would come over, put on a happy mask, coo over their newborn babies, and pretend that his and Dean's friendship is the same. There would be a few barbeque parties, a few awkward evenings before they both realize they have little left in common. After that their meetings would become rare before they stop completely. Castiel could see it all so clear as if it had already happened.

The worst part was that he couldn't be mad at them. Both Dean and Lisa were good people who deserved to be happy. It wasn't their fault that kind of life wasn't for Castiel.

After the shock wore off his first impulse was to leave. Run as far as it was possible. Go to his tiny apartment. Take a plane to Fiji. Find a hooker and fuck him senseless. Anything but staying in the place where everything had once been so wonderful for him.

"I think it's time for this." Ellen held up a bottle of tequila.

They ended up drinking in the farthest corner of the bar, staying long after most of the guests had left. The gratifying burn of the liquor dulled Castiel's emotions and the searing pain in his chest. Ellen's face across the table turned into a blur and he hoped his own was the same for her otherwise she would have noticed the misery plastered to his face.

"You know I've never told you boys how proud I am." Ellen muttered after downing another shot. "You've always been so damn stubborn. You deserve all of it more than anyone. You deserve to be happy." She smiled.

The words touched Cas even through the haze of alcohol. "Thanks Ellen," he muttered, feeling sick.

"It's funny. I always thought you two would…" She paused and looked up at Castiel. "You know what, never mind. I'm too drunk to have this conversation." Another shot was sent down her throat.

Someone slid into their booth on Castiel's side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"There you are!" Dean's smiling face was inches away from his. "Cas, I just remembered…Can you imagine, tonight is six years since we created the Leads! Isn't that awesome?"

Castiel knew he should feign surprise and excitement, but he was too drunk and too miserable to make an effort.

"Wow, Dean that's… awesome." He couldn't even make up a proper adjective. Luckily Dean didn't notice.

"I know." He grabbed a full shot glass from his hand and downed it, giving Castiel's shoulder a tight squeeze. "Congrats man."

"Yeah, you too."

"Sorry to interrupt you guys, but I need to take this little bundle of alcohol home." Gabriel appeared next to their table without notice, but Castiel suspected he'd been watching him all evening.

Dean started to protest, saying that the night had just started, but Gabriel remained adamant.

"Sorry Dean-o, but you know how bitchy Cassie becomes when she doesn't get her beauty sleep."

"I'm right here." Castiel tried to sound irritated, but truth was he wanted to leave.

He was afraid to do something stupid if he didn't so when Gabriel took him by the elbow and walked him outside the bar he didn't resist.

When they reached Gabriel's car Castiel couldn't hold it anymore. He gripped the front door and looked his brother in the eyes.

"Cas, I'm so sorry," Gabriel muttered and that was all it took.

It was the first time Castiel cried in six years.

**xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thank you guys for your lovely reviews! They inspire me to write this story. Here's chapter 5, I hope you'll like it.

**xxx**

Months passed before Castiel got used to the idea of Dean having a serious relationship. It wasn't as bad as he'd imagined – they still spent most of their time together travelling across the country, preparing for their first world tour. The difference was now Dean only slept with Lisa who travelled alongside the crew. Castiel didn't know if she had a job, but given the fact that she'd spent the last few months following them everywhere he made a conclusion that she didn't. From Dean he only knew that she was a yoga instructor, reluctantly listening to vague anecdotes about 'bendy weekends'.

Dean's behavior didn't change much to Castiel's relief. He wasn't lovesick or obsessive. If anything he became calmer.

The only person who was openly against the relationship was Alastair. Alastair believed any relationship would damage the image of the band, upsetting the majority of their fanbase, who were women. Of course Dean didn't care what Alastair thought, leading to frequent rows where threats were tossed out but didn't go further. Perhaps Alastair hoped Lisa was a crush that would soon pass and only asked Dean to keep his relationship a secret, which wasn't a problem for him – he had never made a show of his private life before.

For a while Castiel thought he was fine, ignoring any unpleasant emotions from rearing to the forefront of his mind with the help of strippers and alcohol. There were two more concerts left before the end of the tour. Afterwards he planned to board a plane to Fiji, getting as far from home, most importantly from Dean, as possible.

That's what he was thinking about as he and Dean sat in their dressing room, getting ready to go on stage all the while being scared shitless.

No matter how many concerts they'd had the anxiety was always there. What if something went wrong? What if the instruments wouldn't work? What if the lights went out? Months earlier the lights had gone out. It hadn't been bad though. They managed to calm the crowd while the generators powered up. But even after that incident the fear didn't disappear. The only way to stop the nagging feeling was to go on stage and start playing.

That's why Castiel waited for their call, lying on a couch and studying the ceiling. Dean whirled on a chair before a large mirror. He'd been throwing glances in Castiel's direction for half an hour already and Castiel was waiting when he would finally say what he wanted.

"Hey Cas, can I talk to you?"

"Sure."

"There's something I have to tell you. You're my best friend and… I wanted to let you know first." There was anxiety in his voice that perked Castiel's attention.

"Are you on drugs?"

"No. Why the Hell—"

"You want to leave the band?"

"What? No. Cas, let me finish. This is good news, great news even."

"All right. Shoot."

"Cas, I'm gonna propose Lisa."

Castiel's heart skipped a beat. He sat up straight, dumbfounded, staring at Dean and trying to figure out whether it was a joke. Maybe he'd misheard.

"Come again."

Dean looked him in the eyes, his stare intense. "Tonight at the afterparty I'm going to propose to Lisa. I want to marry her."

"You…"

Somebody knocked on the door.

"Guys, it's time."

Castiel followed Dean to the door in shock. Thoughts and questions swarmed through his head, but he found himself unable to talk. He wanted to grab Dean, turn him around, and demand an explanation, but instead he went on stage and sat behind his synthesizer, stretching his suddenly clumsy and irresponsive fingers.

For the first time the delighted screams of the crowd didn't affect him. For the first time the elation that overtook him when he settled onstage with the storm of applause as his backdrop wasn't there.

They started playing and Castiel was thankful his hands remembered what to do without the need for his brain to participate. As his fingers moved and the other's strummed and beat their instruments, he was deafened by the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

'_Cas, I'm gonna propose Lisa._'

Dean stood in the spotlight near the edge of the stage. Castiel could see specks of dust dancing in the air around him. The crowd sang with him, but Castiel was indifferent to the energy.

He spent the majority of the concert in a kind of stupor.

'_Tonight at the afterparty I'm gonna propose Lisa.'_

It was only when the first song they wrote together started did Castiel realize it was over.

He had to quit the band. It was the last time they would ever play the song together. He couldn't stand it anymore, wasn't strong enough. He didn't want to suffer more than he'd already had. The Leads couldn't exist any longer, not with him. Dean could do whatever he wanted, but Castiel couldn't be with him like this. Spending every day in near constant contact. His heart ached when he thought about it, but he told himself that his decision was final and there was no going back.

Of course he wouldn't say anything tonight, he couldn't spoil the day of Dean's engagement. He would have to come up with a proper explanation because 'I'm in love with you and I can't watch you being happy with someone else' didn't sound like a good one for oh so many reasons. He didn't want to postpone it for long either, afraid to lose his newfound courage. He would talk to Dean the next morning.

He left his synthesizer and walked across the stage to take the guitar from Andy aware of the significance of the moment. It was the last time he would stand next to Dean, leaning over the edge towards the screaming fans and cutting the air with the sounds of his guitar.

Dean glanced at him and winked – oblivious that this would be the end to The Leads. His face illuminated by the floodlights was flushed, eyes glowing with excitement.

Castiel tried to imagine how they looked together – his own wiry form, pale skin, and inky black hair with Dean's muscle, freckles, and charm. On stage Castiel rarely showed emotion, his face expressionless, but Dean was passionate – fierce and unstoppable.

As the song reached its peak Castiel made the few steps closer to him, afraid the heat would burn him, melt him into nothing. Another step, a touch of foreheads, the damp feeling of skin on skin, Dean's breath against his lips as the last words of the song escaped them, becoming part of the thick air. A moment where he floundered to savor every detail. People in the crowd screamed in delight – they had been waiting for this.

Dean finished singing, but didn't move away, waiting for Castiel to pull the last cords from the guitar. There was less than an inch between their mouths and Castiel knew that if he'd just closed the ridiculous distance he could finally find out what Dean tasted like…

Sweat. His lips salty, soft and pliable, opening for him either by intent or on impulse, he didn't really care which. Castiel realized what he'd done only when Dean made a strangled noise in the back of his throat - something between a grunt and a gasp. He didn't kiss back, but he didn't move away either, letting Castiel slide his tongue along his bottom lip before they parted. The crowd had gone wild, screaming and applauding in enthusiasm.

The rest of the concert passed in a blur of lights and sounds. Castiel avoided looking at Dean or anyone else for that matter.

He left the stage when the concert was over, following Dean to their dressing room, staring at the back of his best friend's head, trying to figure out by the tenseness of his neck whether Dean was mad, shocked, or disappointed. At the same time he was reluctant to stay alone with him and find out the truth so he slowed his pace, dropping behind to give autographs to a couple of fans who somehow managed to sneak backstage.

Turned out he didn't have to worry about being confronted by Dean. By the time Castiel reached their dressing room it was crowded. The rest of the band– Balthazar, Ash, and Andy - was there with Dean, sitting quietly. The atmosphere clearly read as 'tense'. They all watched Alastair pacing in circles in the middle of the room his face dark with anger. He stopped when he saw Castiel, crossed the distance between them in a stride, invading his personal space.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed, covering Castiel's face with splashes of saliva.

Castiel figured the question was rhetorical so he didn't bother to answer. The last thing he cared about was Alastair's reaction. After all, he had already decided to leave the band so it didn't matter even if he got kicked out. It was Dean's reaction he was afraid of. He saw his friend out of the corner of his eye, but didn't dare turn to look at him. Instead he watched the vein on Alastair's temple pulse at a threatening pace, wondering with a detached interest whether the man would have a heart attack.

"Do you think this is some kind of joke? That this is all just for fun? I've worked so fucking hard to create the image for this band, to pull you two ingrates from dirt. We have an agreement! You've signed the contract! Do you think our sponsors will like that you've fucked up everything? Do you have any idea how many fans we'll lose after what you've done? There's a shitload of money at stake and I'm not gonna let some dumbass cocksucker take it away from me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Castiel's voice was calm. He wasn't going to feel guilty for what he did. True, he was embarrassed that he failed to control his impulses and scared that Dean would hate him, but what was done was done. The only way to get out of that situation with minimum damage was to act like nothing had happened, like he had planned to do it to entertain their fans. Besides, he wasn't going to let Alastair debase him in front of the whole band.

Alastair's nostrils flared, enraged he uttered, "Oh, please. You're not gonna fool _me_. I know a faggot when I see one. I don't care who you fuck in your time off, but I hate it when my money gets taken away from me. There are certain rules, fairly simple rules I must say, that you two need to follow to the 'T' unless you want me to destroy what you call a 'career'. Just play nice and keep it in your pants at least in public. I don't give a shit what perverted things you do to get your rocks off, just don't bring that crap on stage."

Castiel opened his mouth to reply, but Dean was faster, standing between him and Alastair, hands raised as a shield.

"Whoa, whoa. Chill. This is ridiculous. Cas isn't gay. I know him. He might have gone a little too far on stage, but I'm telling you right now he is _not_ gay. Hell, I've hooked him up with women! Chicks love him."

Castiel knew he had to keep his mouth shut while Dean defended him, defended _them_ because now his best friend's career was also at risk. Alastair could destroy Dean's reputation in one night if he wanted to. But there was something in the way Dean tried to put up a macho front for him that hurt.

"Maybe Cas is still a little shy with women, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like them. I think he's got a thing for Lisa's friend Anna, right Cas?"

A feeling had been growing inside Castiel, a gnawing temptation that placed something dangerous on the tip of his tongue.

"Dean…"

"And then there's Meg Masters who won't leave him alone... You should see the way Cas flirts with her. Hell, even I can't pick up women like he does. He doesn't even have to say anything, just looks at them with those big blue eyes and they're ready to lose their clothes."

"Dean…"

Dean waved him off, irritated. "No, Cas. Let me finish. I won't let anyone talk about you like this." He turned back to glare at Alastair. "We've practically lived together for the past couple of years. You think I wouldn't have noticed if Cas was into dudes? I bet he doesn't even know what 'gay' means."

"Dean, I am."

Castiel could see his friend's shoulders tense under the fabric of his t-shirt before Dean turned around to face him.

"What?"

"I'm gay. Always have been." The room went silent while they shared a long look. One could hear a pin being dropped in Australia.

Castiel's worst nightmares came true when he saw horror in Dean's eyes.

Alastair grinned triumphantly in the background. "I knew it."

"No." Dean murmured. "You… It can't be. Cas, tell me you didn't lie to me this whole time!"

"I didn't. I would never lie to you, Dean."

"But you didn't tell me the truth either. I'm your best friend, Cas. You should have told me."

"And how would that go? 'Hey Dean, lets make a band and write music together. Oh, and by the way, _I like cock!_'"

Dean shook his head. "I trusted you, Cas. I thought you trusted me, too. I thought our friendship meant something to you. And you don't even bother to tell me you're gay?"

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know my sexuality was so important to you." The way Dean looked at him made Castiel bitter. "And I'm sorry the fact that I like men would so drastically change your attitude towards me... I guess I did the right thing, hiding it from you. At least then I didn't have to see just how disgusted you are with me."

"Cas, that's not…"

"Save it, Dean. I know you. I can see that you're horrified. I just… I had hoped you wouldn't be one of those people."

Castiel knew he crossed the line when Dean reached to grab his shoulders, growling, "How can you even…"

"Easy, easy, Dean." Ash stood between them, tearing Dean's hands away from Castiel. "There are crowds of journalists out there. You don't want to give them front page material."

"I wish I told you earlier," Castiel spit out when Dean finally let him go. "Then it wouldn't have gone so far." He looked around the room, ignoring the startled looks from the rest of the band.

"Yeah, me too." Dean turned away, freeing himself from Ash's grip.

"Why don't you go get in the car Dean?" Alastair turned to Ash. "Switch places with Cas so that these two don't ride in the same car. I don't want them killing each other off before I get my money. As regards to you, nancy." The mischievous smile spread on Alastair's face as he looked at Castiel. "Listen to me. You are going to do exactly what I say unless you want me to destroy your sorry life. You will go to the afterparty tonight and you will fuck Meg Masters so that tomorrow morning every single person in this city will know what a macho man you are. Get drunk, swallow a bottle of Viagra, or think about your straight friend if you need to. I don't give a rat's ass. You are going to make up for your little PR fiasco."

Castiel felt sick, but resisted the urge to tell Alastair to go screw himself. He still wanted to leave the band, but he couldn't take Dean down with him.

He swallowed his pride and nodded.

"All right. I'll do it."

**TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** First of all, I'm sorry for the delay guys, but in my defense this chapter is much longer than the others. Thank you for all your lovely reviews, they keep me writing!

**xxx**

The realization struck Castiel later on their way to the afterparty.

_I kissed Dean. My best friend. On the day of his engagement. In front of thousands of people._

He told him he was gay before the whole band! What was he thinking? Soon Dean would calm down after their fight and he would realize what he really meant to Castiel. He would figure out Castiel had carried a torch for him this whole time.

Their friendship was over. He lost the little he had with Dean. He lost his trust, his respect. He had been so greedy, wanting more than he'd already had. He wanted Dean all to himself and now he'd lost everything. How could he be so reckless and stupid?

Castiel had a sudden urge to hit his head against the car's front seat.

"You okay, Cas?" The fact that Balthazar called him 'Cas' instead of 'Cassie' proved how completely screwed the situation was.

He had to sleep with somebody against his will to protect a person who would never want to speak to him again. All because he was so damn stupid.

"You don't have to do this, you know. You could pay somebody to say she's slept with you."

"Alastair won't let me do that. My brother was right, this man's crazy. We shouldn't have gotten involved with him in the first place."

Balthazar put a hand on his knee. It was awkward and Castiel stifled an urge to move away. He couldn't do it anyways with Andy sitting on his left.

"I'm sorry, Cas. If it makes you feel better I can tell you that you're not the only one. Show business is all about money and lies. You're not the first person to sleep with somebody for PR."

Somehow that thought brought little comfort, making him feel like a whore. He wasn't going to show that to Balthazar though.

"I know. It's fine. I can do it."

Balthazar squeezed his knee and Castiel shifted uncomfortably, torn between the wish to get out of the car and for the ride to never end.

**xxx**

The house Chuck had booked for the afterparty that night was gigantic. The place was packed wall to wall when they arrived.

It hurt to see the expensive décor and antique furniture being given to the needs of drunk and stoned socialites. Castiel thought that he would never get used to the extravagance of the rich.

Guests were huddled in the front yard with drinks in their hands, laughing loudly. Their conversation stopped when they saw him, following him with curious glances.

Everywhere he went the chatter suddenly evaporated and Castiel felt eyes on him. He failed to remember whether people had always looked at him that much or if it was because of the incident at the concert. He wouldn't be surprised if they already knew everything that had happened afterwards too.

He went to get a few drinks before finding Meg. He needed to be drunk so that he could have sex with her, but not so drunk that he would end up crying in her lap about his unrequited feelings. Before he could finish his first beer though, Meg found him.

He almost let out a groan of desperation. It was too early, he wasn't nearly tipsy enough to face her.

"Hey there angel," she purred sweetly and Castiel wondered whether she'd seen that interview with Becky Rosen.

"Hello Meg."

"Alastair told me you were looking for me."

He understood Alastair's choice – the woman never kept her mouth shut, especially when it concerned her sex life. This led to paparazzi following Meg Masters like a shadow. Tomorrow the whole world would know about them. The thought made his festering fear grow. What if he couldn't do it?

He offered her a drink and ordered another one for himself, ignoring the people passing by who threw surprised glances at them.

The conversation was slow and dull. Meg did most of the talking. Good thing was that he didn't even have to try to seduce her – she was already eager to jump his bones.

Castiel noticed Dean and Lisa when they arrived and turned away to avoid meeting with his friend's eyes. Dean didn't seem to see him, but Lisa did, tugging her boyfriend's hand and heading in the direction where Castiel and Meg were sitting.

"There you are!" Lisa smiled at him sweetly as if Castiel hadn't kissed her fiancé a couple of hours ago. He glanced at her hand discretely. There was no ring, which meant that Dean hadn't asked the question yet.

"Dean was just telling me about how you two came up with the idea of the kiss."

"He did, huh?" Castiel dared a glance at Dean. His cheeks were slightly pink and he gave Castiel a pointed look before looking down at the floor, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the carpet.

"It's a funny story, isn't it?" Castiel smiled, wondering just what Dean had told her.

"Oh." Meg's eyebrows flew up. "I thought you guys were improvising."

Lisa glowered at her, not even bothering to answer, but Meg didn't notice, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.

"And how was it?" she asked Dean. "Did you like it?"

Dean didn't reply, but Meg smiled as if that was the answer she expected.

"You did, didn't you? Your face is red!"

Indeed, Dean was flushed. Castiel wasn't surprised. He got kissed by another dude and everybody at the party knew about it - no wonder he was embarrassed. Any straight guy in his place would be.

Castiel felt his own face heat up, but for another reason. Memories flashed before his eyes and for a moment he remembered what Dean's lips tasted like and how they felt against his own…

He realized he had already passed the point of 'a little tipsy', moving towards the 'telling the whole world everything about his epic love.'

Besides, if he didn't take Meg away from Lisa immediately they could end up having a second public fight in one evening. It was enough that he was feeling guilty for the scene in the dressing room. It seemed that Dean had been in a gloomy mood ever since, keeping quiet and not even throwing a spare glance at him. He wouldn't let anybody spoil the day of Dean's engagement. Well, spoil it even more than he'd already had.

"Will I get to hear the story?" Meg pouted at him, her scarlet lips so close to his face that he could see every single wrinkle.

He imagined how he would have to kiss those lips, feel the thick texture of her lipstick, its unnatural taste. He swallowed hard, fighting the nausea. He could do it. It would be easy and quick, like ripping off a band-aid.

When he glanced up at Dean and Lisa the last of his fears and doubts vanished. Suddenly Castiel was angry with himself, angry at his weakness and the way things were turning out for him and the only way to make him feel better was to do the right thing.

He loved Dean and although he wanted his friend all to himself, he would prove he was better than this. Better than being jealous, better than blaming fate or God or whatever there was for making him miserable and lonely and bitter. He would prove to the whole fucking universe that it wasn't just some crush. He would do anything to make Dean happy and demand nothing in exchange. And then the universe could go screw itself for having such a twisted sense of humor, for giving him everything and nothing at once. He didn't care anymore.

Decision made, Castiel put on an easy smile and wrapped his arm around Meg's shoulders, ignoring Lisa's surprised look.

"Of course you'll hear it," he murmured in his most seductive low voice spiced with passion and promise. "I'll tell you once we move this little party upstairs."

A content smile bloomed on Meg's face. He would demand an Oscar for this.

"Now those are the words I've been waiting to hear." She took the hand Castiel had offered her and winked at Dean. "Too bad you can't join us, baby. I'm sure you'd have liked that."

Dean's face reddened again and Castiel pulled Meg towards the stairs, hurrying before she said something else.

He threw one last glance over his shoulder as they were leaving the room to see Lisa glaring at them in fury.

Dean stood next to her, whispering something to Balthazar who was probably passing by and witnessed the little scene. Both men were frowning. Balthazar said something to Dean and shrugged. It looked as if they were arguing and it made Castiel curious, but he had no time to dwell on it.

**xxx**

Upstairs, the rooms were luxurious. There were few bedrooms, most already occupied. They managed to find a vacant one on the third try. Meg shoved him into it, clinging drunkenly to his elbow.

When the door closed she wrapped her arms around Castiel's neck, pressing their lips together. There was no spark, no rush of adrenaline, just the press of skin on skin. Meg tasted like alcohol, cigarettes, and - as Castiel expected – lipstick. The unfamiliar smell of her expensive perfume was too strong, threatening to suffocate him.

Now, Castiel had kissed a couple of girls in his time. He'd even had sex with one of them – her name was Rachel – at the time when he'd experimented with his sexuality. He had to make sure he didn't like women before admitting to himself he was gay. The sex wasn't horrible – Rachel was very patient and understanding – but afterwards he decided he would never attempt it again. Sex with women was stressful. He was so worried something would go wrong; he thought he might get a heart attack. In the end it did work out, but Castiel decided it wasn't worth it. It wasn't that he didn't like women. He just liked men more.

Especially Dean.

Dean with his golden skin, sprinkled with tiny freckles that gave him an adorable and somewhat innocent look, his soft brown hair that turned blond in the sunlight and eyes green like rainforests, long eyelashes that curled a little on the ends, sharp cheekbones, and full lips that had made Castiel weak in the knees just a few hours ago.

Meg pulled him towards the king-sized bed, working on the buttons of his shirt. Castiel reminded himself to participate and reached to take off her blouse.

He thought that Dean had probably done the same things to her – kissed her and stripped her of her clothes. Did his hands touch where Castiel's hands were touching? Did his lips kiss her where Castiel was kissing her?

He tried to wave off those thoughts. He wasn't going to think about Dean. He wouldn't imagine Dean instead of Meg. Of course that would make his task much easier but Castiel wasn't going for easy and he wouldn't use Dean as a means to get off.

They stumbled and fell on the bed together, the blouse thrown to the floor, freeing more skin for Castiel to discover. He moved his hands with curiosity and couldn't help but think of how Dean touched the same places. Was that what Dean liked? A soft body with curves and no sharp angles - was that what he had to be for Dean to want him? Again he had to stop himself from thinking of Dean.

His thoughts started wandering and he wondered how much time had passed since they got in here – it could be ten minutes or an hour. He tried to remember whether they had locked the door but then decided it was okay even if they hadn't. The more people who knew about this the better.

Meg squirmed underneath him, trying to turn them over and he let her, reminding himself to pay attention. He tried to concentrate on his senses, taking in the feelings under his fingertips, the heady smell of sweat and perfume that slowly filled the room, the sound of his heart beating so loudly in his chest…

Except for his heart wasn't beating that hard. Something else was.

He moved away from Meg's tight grip.

"Can you hear it? I think somebody's knocking."

Meg looked at the door over her shoulder and shrugged.

"Forget it. They'll leave." She pressed her mouth back to his.

The knocking didn't stop though. Castiel thought he heard somebody say his name.

"What if it's important?" He maneuvered himself from under her and stumbled across the room, ignoring her irritated slurs.

Behind the door stood Andy and by his wild look Castiel figured that something had happened.

"Cas, man. Sorry to interrupt, but it's just… it's Dean."

Castiel tensed. "What happened?"

"He got real drunk or somethin', I don't know, and now he's on the roof and wants to jump into the pool. I swear he's gonna break his neck and he won't listen to any of us! He won't even listen to Lisa! She's pissed. You gotta come and talk some sense into him. Maybe he'll listen to you. He's really out of it."

Castiel had already retrieved his shirt from the floor buttoning it up, following Andy downstairs.

The house was empty as they hurried through it – all guests had gathered in the front yard. They stood at the swimming pool, looking up and murmuring. To his horror, Castiel saw Dean standing on the edge of the roof with a bottle of beer in his hand.

When Dean saw him he grinned, waving with his free hand. "Oh, hey Cas!" He swayed a bit and Castiel's heart stopped. "Glad you came. You were missing all the fun!"

"Dean, what are you doing?" Castiel shouted back, aware of the many curious eyes now cast on him.

"Remember that episode of Dr. Sexy when he jumped off the balcony into the pool?" Dean shouted back. "I'm gonna do that now. I'm gonna jump. You should join me, Cas. It'll be fun!"

Castiel elbowed his way through the crowd to stand closer. "Dean, don't do that! You'll break your neck!"

Dean's laugh was unfamiliar. Castiel was surprised at how he'd managed to get so drunk in such a short time.

"Bullshit, Cas. It'll be fun. Come jump with me!"

Castiel turned around, looking for someone from their crew. Ash stood right behind him.

"Ash, can you keep him talking? Make sure he won't jump. I'm going to the roof."

"You sure you can talk him out of it? Maybe we should call the cops."

Castiel shook his head. "There's no time. Just keep him talking, alright?" He looked up at the roof. "Wait for me, Dean! Don't jump! I'll be there in a minute!"

Dean grinned happily, taking a large swig of beer. "Hurry up!"

Castiel never moved so fast in his life. He sprinted across the yard and ran into the house and up the stairs. His heart pounded like a jackhammer against his ribs as he opened the door to the roof, afraid there would be no one there.

Thankfully, Dean was.

He turned around at the sound. He smiled and Castiel saw how glassy his eyes were.

There was no way beer could affect him like that and, as far as Castiel was aware, Dean didn't take drugs. Someone had spiked his drink.

He had to be very careful, so he stood in the doorway not daring to move further.

"Come here, Cas. Don't be afraid. It's not that high."

"Dean, this is not a good idea."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, don't be such a pussy! Do you ever have fun? Just relax and come here. It'll be awesome, I promise." He offered Castiel his hand.

Castiel shook his head but made a few steps in his direction. He had to grab Dean and drag him off the roof, but he knew Dean was stronger. There was a high chance they would both end up falling into the pool. Castiel imagined tomorrow's newspapers carrying the front-page headlines covering their deaths. He won't let that happen.

"Dean, don't do this. Please."

Dean just winced. "Since when did you become so boring? Seriously dude, I haven't heard your laugh in months!"

"And you think breaking your neck will make me laugh?"

Dean studied him with a drunken perplexity, biting the inside of his bottom lip. For a horrifying second it looked like he would take a step back and jump, but he didn't. Castiel walked towards him with more confidence and took him by the elbow.

It was surprising how easy it was. The first moment Castiel saw Dean on the roof he thought it would end badly, that he wouldn't manage to persuade him not to jump.

But Dean didn't resist when he walked him inside the house where Ash and Andy had been waiting for them. He didn't resist when they ushered him into one of the bedrooms, shutting the door before any of the guests could look.

Once hidden from the unwanted stares, Castiel spent no time on idle conversation.

"Ash, ask the driver to pull the car to the backdoor."

They couldn't afford another public scandal. Paparazzi already had enough material for one night.

He pushed Dean towards the bed and made him sit on the edge, squatting down in front of him. He took his friend's face in both hands and angled him so he could check his pupils.

"Did anyone see what he took?"

"I'm telling you Cas, he only had beer. Lisa said she was with him the whole time." Andy closed the door behind Ash, locking it, and returned to stand by the bed.

"Where is she? We need to get Dean back to the hotel and find a doctor to check him."

It wasn't like Dean to take any unknown substances. Everybody in their circle knew that. Of course he often abused alcohol, they all did, but there was no way cheap beer could make him drunk in such a short time. However, there were lots of crazy people out there who would want to spike his drink for different reasons.

"She got real pissed at him, man. Think she already left. I couldn't find her."

Castiel sighed. "We can't let him go alone like that."

"Relax mom." Dean grinned down at him, the green of his eyes almost entirely devoured with black pupils. "'M fine." He made an attempt to stand up, but his wobbly feet forced him back on the bed.

Andy shook his head. "He won't listen to anyone but you, Cas. You have to go with him."

Castiel sighed. Andy was right. He had to go with Dean and make sure he was fine, no matter how reluctant he was to stay alone with his friend. In the morning Dean would resume hating him for what he'd done and he would probably be horrified and disgusted with the fact that they'd been left alone together even for the short period required to drive to the hotel.

Castiel pushed these thoughts aside. There was no time to be selfish. Dean would hate him, but at least he would be fine. It was all that mattered.

When Ash returned the three of them managed to get Dean in the car without anyone from the guests noticing. It was a small miracle in Castiel's eyes and he had a sliver of hope that their misfortunes for tonight were over.

He settled in the back seat with Dean, instructing the driver to go as fast as possible. When the house disappeared in the rear view mirror he let out a breath of relief.

"Hey." Dean turned to him in the semi-darkness. "Are you mad at me?"

Street lights flickered on his features as the car carried them through the half empty city.

Castiel shook his head. "No, Dean. Why would I be mad at you? It's not your fault."

For a moment Dean's face got illuminated and Castiel noticed that his eyes weren't glassy anymore. The look his friend was giving him was sober.

"I ah, interrupted you while you were with Meg. Sorry 'bout that."

Castiel let out a quiet snort. "It's not like I was eager to stay with her any longer."

"So it's true then?" Dean frowned and the fingers of his hand that lay between them curled against the leather upholstery. "You've slept with Meg just because Alastair told you to? Because of a stupid kiss?"

So that's what it was to Dean. A 'stupid kiss'.

Anger and resentment blended in Castiel's stomach into a bitter mix that poisoned his entire being.

He shrugged and turned to look at the passing buildings. "It's not a big deal. Besides, your little show didn't let me… close the deal anyways."

"It didn't? Huh." Something in Dean's voice made Castiel look at him again but his friend was already lying against the back seat with his eyes closed.

Neither of them said anything else until they got to the hotel. Dean refused to go to his suite, arguing that Lisa would cut off his head, so Castiel had to take him to his own suite, noting that for a guy who'd attempted to jump off the roof only an hour ago Dean was suddenly very reasonable. He refused to see a doctor, claiming that he felt much better, although he still leaned on Castiel when they walked through the wide hallway. The places where they touched – a hand on the shoulder and a brush of jeans clad hips – sent an unnerving tingle through Castiel's body. He couldn't wait to let go and be as far away as possible from Dean.

The words 'stupid kiss' still rang in his ears as he unlocked the door.

"Make yourself at home. You can take the bedroom." It wasn't like he would be able to sleep tonight anyways. He was still high on adrenaline after everything that had happened. It was unlikely that the high would wear off in the next few hours.

"What, that's it? You won't even make sure I get to bed safely? The kind of friend you are, Cas." The lightness of Dean's tone didn't let Castiel get offended.

"Besides," he added as he opened the door to the bedroom, "I'm not sure if I can manage with the buttons. Quid pro quo and all that, dude." He winked.

Was Dean flirting with him? Castiel shook his head. That was impossible. Dean hated him. Maybe he had to see a doctor after all. Whatever that drug was, it was obviously still in his system.

Castiel followed him to the bedroom. The lights were off and neither of them bothered to turn them on. It reminded of the night when he'd been drunk and Dean helped him undress. His friend would probably never admit it, but Castiel knew that night Dean was worried about him. Even though he hadn't known exactly what was going on.

With a sudden clarity Castiel realized it was the same man who was now sitting on his bed who had cared for him. His best friend, the only person who'd really liked him before Castiel became insanely rich and popular. The person who enjoyed being with him even when he was a shy kid with ten bucks to his name.

At that thought the resentment and anger that had been eating away his insides like acid for the past months, drowned in a wave of affection. This was Dean, _his_ Dean. Not some stranger he could easily leave behind just because he'd wounded his ego.

"Come here," Castiel murmured, even though it was him who moved towards the bed. He sat next to the shadowed silhouette of his friend, trying to make as little sound as possible, reluctant to dissipate the mood.

Dean fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, his fingers clumsy. He hadn't been kidding when he said he couldn't undo them.

"Let me." He moved Dean's hands away and worked each button open.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, drawing his attention.

"Cas, I'm sorry for what happened tonight. I didn't mean to offend you." Dean's voice was steady, not a single hint of hesitation in it. "I was wrong. I should've stayed by your side, I should've protected you from Alastair, but I was only thinking about myself, about my feelings, and about how I felt betrayed -"

"Dean—"

"No, Cas. I want you to know I don't care if you're gay or straight or bi or whatever. You are my friend and I will stand by you no matter what. I won't let some douchebag force you to do things you don't want." He tightened his grip on Castiel's shoulder and Castiel would've hissed in pain if he wasn't so absorbed in what Dean had said.

Dean's hand moved up to cup his cheek – something he'd never done before – resting the thumb on the corner of Castiel's mouth.

"Please don't hate me," he whispered, moving his thumb along Castiel's bottom lip in a gesture so tender it hurt.

For one insane moment Castiel thought Dean would kiss him and he froze, afraid to breathe. But then Dean moved away and started working on the buttons as if nothing had happened.

Castiel snapped out of his trance and reached out to help him. After the shirt was off he hesitated whether or not he should help take off his t-shirt as well, but Dean decided that himself, pulling it off quickly and throwing it on the floor.

Castiel helped him unbutton his jeans and pull them off, noticing that Dean was hard. Was it because he helped him undress or was Dean just drunk and high on emotions? They were young enough to have accidental boners. It could be nothing.

He felt his own jeans become even tighter than they'd already been. He hurried to move away the bedspread before Dean could notice his problem.

"What, you're not gonna join me?" In that tone Dean might as well asked him to pass the salt. "I won't let you take the couch, Cas. It's been a long day and we need rest, both of us." A playful smile appeared on his lips. "I promise to stick to my side."

There was no way Castiel could share the bed with Dean who was only wearing a pair of tight boxers that left little to the imagination given his current… condition.

"I'll be right back," he blurted and retreated into the bathroom.

He stood under the hot spray, intent to take care of his own problem, but he couldn't relax with Dean in the next room, couldn't force his brain to stop thinking about everything that had happened that day. He left the shower annoyed, frustrated, and even harder than before.

Dean was already sleeping when he returned, spread against the ivory sheets and breathing evenly. Castiel had always been fascinated with how quickly Dean could fall asleep no matter how many problems he faced.

Keeping his promise, Dean occupied only one side of the king-sized bed. Castiel sat on the other side and for a while just watched his friend's face, memorizing his relaxed features through the veil of darkness.

Remembering what Dean had said to him, Castiel realized that his friend was right. He and Dean were so close that nothing and nobody could ever separate them. Even if the Leads would no longer exist. Even if Dean got married. They shared a bond that no one else could ever have with Dean. Not even Lisa, no matter how kind and understanding she was.

There was no point in leaving the Leads either. He needed Dean in his life and Dean needed him. The thought sent a pleasant warmth through his body.

He reached out and moved his fingers through Dean's ruffled hair, feeling that he had the right to do so.

TBC…


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel's first thought was that he had overslept whatever Chuck had scheduled for them that day. The sharpness of the light that soaked through the Italian curtains and his eyelids meant it was around noon. He didn't care. The pain in his muscles shut down all other feelings and for a while he just lay there, trying to get back to sleep.

Memories of last night whirled in his head and he remembered what had happened. He opened his eyes and turned around to look at the empty spot on the bed beside him. Dean wasn't there and the only evidence that he had been there in the first place was the crumpled pillow. Castiel wasn't surprised.

He fell back into the warmth of the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while, counting the number of reading lamps. There were four. He started counting again, to make sure, when he heard a sound coming from the shower. Someone was singing and soon he managed to make out the tune of 'Hey Jude'.

As if knowing that he woke up, Dean turned off the shower and in a minute emerged in the doorway wrapped in a towel.

"Hey, you're up." He smiled at Castiel brightly and the morning light could go cry in the corner. "I though you were comatose." He fished out another towel and started wandering about the room, drying off his damp hair.

Castiel rolled on his side and followed him with his gaze.

"I wish I was. You're a horrible singer."

Dean laughed. "Don't tell anyone. Alastair would kill you." His face darkened at the memory of the man but he didn't let it go further and changed the subject. "You want a coffee? I could use one. My head hurts like a bitch."

"Coffee sounds great." Castiel made an attempt to get out of bed but Dean stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"Stay there, I'll get you one. You've saved my ass yesterday, man. The least I can do is to get you a decent coffee."

Dean went to the next room and started the fancy coffee machine. Castiel lay in the bed, listening to its buzzing, and tried not to think about the fact that Dean was going to bring him coffee in bed.

Dean returned with two steaming cups and handed him one, making himself comfortable on the other side of the bed. Castiel mouthed a quiet 'thanks' and took a sip, surprised that the coffee was exactly how he liked it.

"I figure you don't want to talk about what happened yesterday," Castiel said after a while.

"Not really, no."

"Dean, this is serious. We have to find out who drugged you. We need to take you to a doctor."

"Cas, I'm telling you I'm fine."

"Dean, this is not fine. Fan letters and phone calls are one thing. This is a whole new level of sick."

Dean sighed, resting his head against the headboard much like Castiel did last night. "Nobody drugged me, okay?"

"Are you saying that the beer did that? Dean, I've seen you drinking, I know how much you can take. I was away no more than twenty minutes."

"Exactly." Dean looked at him pointedly. "Now think about it, Cas."

Castiel looked up in his eyes and for a while they just stared at each other.

"No. Dean, you didn't."

"And what was I supposed to do, huh? You were going to sleep with her, didn't you? Just 'cause Alastair told you so?" Castiel didn't reply and Dean winced.

"I wanted to do that because of you, Dean. I needed to fix what I've done."

"And I did what I needed to stop you."

"By making a show and scaring the hell out of the people who care about you?"

"Don't exaggerate, Cas. This is what we're doing all the time, aren't we? Making a show."

Castiel didn't know what to say to that other than "I'm sorry."

Someone knocked on the door and instead of replying Dean stood up from the bed and went to answer.

"There you are. Oh, thank God!" Chuck's twitchy voice came from the door. "We've been looking for you everywhere, dude! Where's… uh, where's Cas?"

"I murdered him and dumped his body from the bridge."

The deadly silence that followed meant that Chuck was too hung-over for jokes.

"I'm kidding, you dumbass. He's here."

"Oh." Chuck peeked into the bedroom and his eyebrows flew up. "Hey, Cas."

Castiel pulled a blanket up to his chin. "Hello, Chuck."

"Uh, I hate to interrupt your little sleepover here, guys, but we need to get going. We need to catch the afternoon's flight otherwise we're stuck here for another day and won't make it for tomorrow's gig."

He was heading for the door when remembered something and stuck his head back in the doorframe.

"And if I were you, I would go downstairs separately. The whole gang is there and you know how gossip spreads. Besides, Dean, Lisa is pissed as hell at you, thought I'd give you a heads up."

"Shit. Thanks, Chuck." Chuck was already gone.

Castiel watched Dean pick up his clothes and headed for the bathroom before he started dressing.

As he stood under the shower he couldn't help but think that although nothing changed something important had happened within the past twenty four hours.

When he got out of the shower Dean was already gone. He spent some time packing which wasn't long because he hadn't had enough time to unpack.

He took one last glance at the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything and then he saw it. A sticky note attached to the flat screen that said in Dean's sloppy handwriting: _"Midnight. The roof. Bring jacket."_

_TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

"Welcome, welcome. It is an honor to have you in our hotel. My name is Bella. I'm here to make sure your stay here is pleasant and unforgettable."

The lights in the lobby reflected from the metal and glass surfaces, creating a blinding concoction.

They crowded at the entrance, tired after the long road, blinking off the semi-darkness of the cab that brought them from the airport.

"While our staff checks you in, let me tell you about our hotel and the recent enhancements that we've made in here."

"Screw the enhancements, I just wanna get in bed and sleep for a year," Andy grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear.

"You poor hairless ape," sighed Balthazar and turned to Bella. "Please continue, my dear, don't listen to that monkey man."

As the woman talked Castiel looked around amazed despite the exhaustion at how they'd managed to get from sharing a shabby room in the middle of nowhere to staying in the best hotels in the country.

He took in the massive foyer with glass elevators and wooden walls, a mix of modern and classic that surprisingly worked.

"The marble you see here was brought all the way from Italy. The woolen carpets came from India," Bella chirped.

"Dean, isn't it lovely?" Lisa sounded impressed as well. She smiled and tugged Dean by the hand to show him the black and white pictures in expensive looking frames hanging on the walls - pictures of how the hotel had looked before renovation. "This place is amazing!"

Dean smiled and followed her around, his hand clutched in her well-manicured fingers.

"This place has a great spa and fitness center," she told Balthazar. "We googled it the other day. They have a swimming pool on the eighth floor, can you imagine? Oh, and they have a restaurant on the roof!"

Castiel perked up at the mention of the roof. Was that what Dean referred to in the note? He had been thinking of it on the plane, even wanted to ask Dean about it but he hadn't had the chance to talk to him alone.

"That's right. Our swimming pool is not in the basement although it would have been much easier and cheaper to have it there. But cheap is not what we go for," Bella announced proudly. "There's also a hot tub with a wonderful view at the city," she continued but Castiel didn't quite catch it as he fell behind the group.

The rooms in the hotel were indeed good. Designed by a Japanese interior guru whose name Castiel didn't quite catch, they were modern and yet homely: wooden furniture of excellent quality, a couple mismatched armchairs that looked soft and comfortable (according to Bella one of them left from the old interior and kept because it fit the new design), an old fairytale book on the low glass table with a magnifying glass on top of it, an album of city photos, a fancy coffee machine and a vase of fresh orchids. Two plain lamps hung low from the ceiling, their soft light warmer than the rest of the lighting. The carpet was of rough wool and with an orient pattern.

An enticing king-sized bed occupied most of the bedroom. Castiel stifled the desire to stretch on it right away and sleep till morning.

An arc doorway on the right from the bedroom led to the dressing room which was also all wooden walls and mirrors. From the dressing room he got into a big bathroom which was the most peculiar part of the suite. Its floors and counters were made of ivory marble sprinkled with grey specks. There were two big wooden wardrobes in it, standing proudly and out of place between the bath tub, the sink and the shower stall. There was no shower stall per se, but there was a shower and there was a drain in the floor and that was it. No curtain, no other indicator where the showering area started or ended. Castiel looked at it, confused, realizing he was supposed to shower between two huge wardrobes. Upon further inspection he discovered that one of the wardrobes had two "layers" of doors so that when he opened the first layer it became the shower curtain or door in that case. So much for a fancy interior.

He took a long soak in the weird shower and put on fresh clothes. Afraid to fall asleep before midnight, he helped himself to a double espresso from the fancy coffee machine which tuned out to be magnificent and spent some time turning over the pages of the fairytale book.

Five minutes to midnight he took his jacket and left the room, throwing one last longing glance at the bed.

The restaurant on the last floor was empty. He passed the vacant tables and exited through a glass door into the roof.

A lonely figure sat at one of the tables, with his back turned to the door, hunched against the nightly chill in his old leather jacket. Castiel would have recognized that jacket anywhere.

"You know they can give you a blanket, don't you?" he asked, taking the empty chair next to his friend.

Dean looked at him, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

"Blankets are for chicks." He adjusted his leather jacket and waved at the waiter. "I wondered if you'd come."

"I got your message. What are we doing here?"

Dean shrugged.

"I need to make up for forgetting about the Leads' anniversary. I've been a shitty friend lately."

The waiter came up, carrying a tray. He put a glass of beer and a plate in front of Castiel, and took off the silver lid. The plate was full of sandwiches.

Castiel smelled them and wrinkled his nose.

"You remember I hate tuna, right?"

"Yeah, well. That's all you'll get." Dean raised his beer. "Cheers."

"Wow, Dean. Thanks for the effort," Castiel snorted, despite feeling all warm inside.

Silence settled between them for a while. The city below was a sea of lights and noises. The night air covered his skin with goose bumps and the sleep was going away.

"So, last concert, huh?" Dean mumbled. "Finally we'll get some time off. Do you have any plans?"

"I'm thinking of travelling for a while."

"Travelling? Like a vacation?" Dean turned his head and regarded Castiel with interest.

"Possibly longer than that."

"How much longer?" Suspicion raised in Dean's voice.

"I don't know. A few months, perhaps more. It's not like anything holds me here."

"What about us?"

Castiel's heart stuttered.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know. The band."

He shrugged. "The band will be fine for a while."

"And the new album? We need to start working on it soon you know."

"We'll start when I am back." Castiel felt as if he was giving a testimony. "Don't you have plans outside the band, Dean? What happened with your plan to marry Lisa?"

"The wedding is still on. Lisa found the ring. I didn't even get the chance to propose."

Castiel winced. "I'm sorry about that."

"Anyway, her parents plan to join us here tomorrow. We're supposed to have an engagement dinner."

"Oh." Castiel's insides twisted into a painful knot but he ignored it. "I didn't know."

"It was Lisa's idea. She wants an engagement celebration with her parents and all."

"Sounds nice."

Dean shook his head. "Let's not talk about it right now, shall we? We're celebrating, Cas! Our first tour is almost over."

They clinked their glasses and took a swig each.

"Do you think we'll manage to write as well as we used to?"

"I don't know. A lot has changed since then."

"Yeah, we're not miserable anymore." Dean gave him another smile, his eyes reflecting the city lights below.

"So you think being miserable is what we need to write decent music?"

"If that's what we need I'll have to lock you up in my parents' home, make you sleep on a crappy mattress and feed you cold pizza."

"All is better than this." Castiel made a show of picking up a tuna sandwich with his thumb and forefinger and taking a tiny bite.

Dean laughed.

"Admit it, you love it."

Castiel chewed the sandwich carefully.

"Somewhat. It reminds me of the old times."

"You're welcome." Dean grinned. "Eat up, that's not the only thing I've planned for tonight."

Castiel raised his eyebrows. "If you're going to feed me more tuna sandwiches I will have to smite you."

"I'm not that cruel. We're going out."

"Out? I kind of hoped I'll go crash after this and get a decent sleep."

"Sleep? How old are you, eighty? Come on man, it's just the two of us. We haven't been out together for how long now? A year? Two? And don't tell me Chuck's afterparties count as going out!"

The corners of Castiel's mouth tugged up in a small smile.

"Alright, I'll go."

Dean grinned in response, showing two rows of perfect white teeth, and sprang from his seat.

"Awesome. Put on your jacket, Cas. We're gonna have fun."

The club Dean picked up was average: nothing fancy but not sleazy either. The patrons were hard to categorize. There were couples, groups of friends, single men and women of different ages – some younger, others older. Then Castiel realized why Dean had chosen that place. It was the most unremarkable club where no one would expect them to be.

Dean took Castiel by the wrist, his grip soft and loose, and headed in the direction of the bar.

"Forgot my cell phone at the hotel," he explained into Castiel's ear, shouting over Lady Gaga singing about her 'bad romance.' "Keep close, don't wanna lose you."

Castiel nodded, ignoring the funny feeling in his stomach at Dean's choice of words, and let him lead the way between the dancing people.

By the time the bartender put two beers in front of them the song has changed and this time they heard the 'Paparazzi' blasting into the air.

"What is this, some kind of Gaga cult?" Dean asked the bartender, flinching.

The guy shrugged.

"It's Gaga hour, buddy. If you don't like that kind of stuff you might want to leave now because this is not gonna end any time soon."

Dean considered something, and then a challenged look appeared on this face. Castiel knew that look. Dean loved challenge. He put the beer back on the counter and tugged Castiel by the hand, pulling him back into the crowd.

"Come on, Cas. Let's do this. She will be flattered if she finds out we've danced to her music."

Castiel followed him with reluctance.

"I hope she never will. I'm not in the mood for dancing, Dean."

"Bullshit. Come on, you're no fun. Don't be boring." He continued getting deeper into the crowd, starting to move to the rhythm of the song.

"Dean, this is ridiculous! I'm not going to dance to that."

Dean didn't listen and started dancing, his eyes fixed on Castiel with an impish sparkle.

'…_I'm your biggest fan  
>I'll follow you until you love me…'<br>_

Dean took his hand and tugged at it, moving Castiel closer so that the crowd didn't separate them.

'_Baby, there's no other superstar,  
>you know that I'll be…'<br>_

The flickering lights painted his face, making it look different every second, some rendering it unrecognizable. Dean smiled at him happily and Castiel couldn't help but smile in response.

'…_Promise I'll be kind  
>But I won't stop<br>Until that boy is mine…'_

Castiel saw his friend's lips moving, mouthing the lyrics of the song, and shook his head 'you're crazy'. Dean shrugged 'what can you do' and continued singing and moving with the music.

'_Baby, you'll be famous  
>Chase you down until you love me…'<br>_

Dean pulled Castiel by the hand again, getting him closer, and their noses almost bumped. Castiel shot a worried glance at him. It was dark and crowded, but there still was a chance somebody would recognize them. Dean, however, seemed unfazed by that. He continued to dance and looked genuinely happy doing so. His face was relaxed, not a trace of the shadows that had been there lately.

For a moment Castiel forgot who or where they were, imagining he was in his hometown again and had just met this amazing, kind and talented guy who made everything in his life better.

Dean pressed against him, the heat from his body soaking through their clothes. He put his arms around Castiel's neck and leaned in to sing into his ear.

'…_I'm your biggest fan  
>I'll follow you until you love me…'<em>

Castiel closed his eyes, basking in the moment, whereas every cell in his body was telling him to stop. Dean's lips brushed against his ear and Castiel opened his eyes, squeezing Dean's shoulders in a wordless warning.

'_Baby, there's no other superstar,  
>you know that I'll be…'<em>

Dean shifted his head and looked into Castiel's eyes, his facial expression unreadable in the dark. In a swift movement he pressed their foreheads together, breathing on Castiel's face. Castiel couldn't hear anything, but from under his eyelashes he saw Dean's lips moving.

'…_Promise I'll be kind  
>But I won't stop<br>Until that boy is mine…'_

Dean put his hand on the nape of Castiel's neck, digging his fingers into the short damp hair.

'_Baby, you'll be famous  
>Chase you down until you love me…'<em>

They swayed together amidst strangers, Castiel's treacherous heart hammering against his ribs, lost in the moment of bliss until the song started to fade away.

When they parted Dean wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"I could use a cold beer now, how 'bout you?"

Castiel nodded his throat too dry to speak.

Dean winked at him and took by the shoulder, taking him back in the direction of the bar. 'A couple beers' turned into buying beer for everyone which then turned into tequila shots after tequila shots and Castiel ended up watching his best friend smearing wet salt over his wrist before licking it off and washing it down with the fiery liquid.

"Damn, this is fun!" Dean shouted over the noise, passing another shot glass to Castiel and watching him intently.

Castiel smiled, because his face stopped obeying him three shots ago, and salted his wrist.

"We should do this more often." He quickly licked his own wrist, knocking back the next shot. The tequila burned his throat just the right way and the sour taste of lime complimented it perfectly.

He looked up to find Dean staring at him.

One of the girls they'd bought a drink half an hour ago passed by and, noticing Dean, snorted.

"You two need to get a room." She threw another glance in their direction and froze. "Hey, do I know you?"

Castiel was the first to react through the haze of alcohol.

"I don't think so. We get that often."

The girl kept staring at them.

"Are you sure? I swear you guys look like…"

"Sorry, sweetheart," Dean chimed in, putting his arm around the girl's shoulders and moving her away from Castiel. "I think that's enough booze for you."

The girl looked confused but let Dean lead her to her girlfriends standing across the dance floor. A part of Castiel expected him to stay with the girls but Dean was back in less than a minute.

"What do you say if we get out of here?" he asked Castiel, finishing off his last shot.

"I think it's a good idea. I can't stand listening to Gaga more than I already had."

Dean took him by the elbow and they headed out, leaning on each other from time to time.

The night was chilly, and Castiel was thankful that Dean had told him to bring a jacket. Castiel knew he was drunk, but he wasn't wasted. He could still hold a more or less sensible conversation.

They walked unhurriedly, deciding against getting a cab, and talked about everything at once, jumping from subject to subject, just like they always had. Castiel was sure he wouldn't remember half of it in the morning.

When they reached the hotel it was about three in the morning. They walked up the marble stairs, about to enter the foyer that was brightly lit even in the middle of the night.

"Hey, how 'bout we go check out that swimming pool that they have?" Dean looked giddy. "I don't feel like sleeping just yet."

Castiel didn't even consider saying 'no'. Trying to sound as calm as he could, he turned to Dean.

"Sure. I'd love that."

Dean chuckled. "Man, you're drunk."

Castiel widened his eyes in mock offence. "I'm not. You've never seen me drunk."

"Oh, yes I have," Dean sang, shoving him towards the glass door without applying any force. Castiel stumbled nevertheless, but didn't fall. He straightened up and shoved Dean back. Dean laughed and started in Castiel's direction, intending to push him again.

"Last time you were grumpier though."

Castiel opened the door, escaping the impact, and ran into the foyer, Dean laughing behind him.

"And who's drunk now?" Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're so gonna regret this!" Dean followed him. Castiel increased his pace to put some distance between them, and headed towards the elevators. He heard Dean's footsteps behind and turned around to suggest stopping by his room and grabbing the complimentary bottle of wine.

"Dean!" someone called from the direction of the reception desk.

There was a group of three people they hadn't noticed. One of them was Lisa. She looked at them, waiting for Dean to come up.

"Uh, hey." Dean started moving towards her and Castiel, feeling stupid, followed him. There was not much else he could do.

"What are you doing in here?"

Lisa looked tense, the wrinkle between her eyebrows sharpened. "My parents have arrived. I came down to meet them."

"Your… But they were supposed to arrive tomorrow."

"They decided to take an earlier flight and surprise us. They called me an hour ago from the airport."

Dean bit his lower lip. "I didn't know."

"Well, you left your phone in the room so there was no way I could tell you."

"I'm sorry?" Dean offered and it sounded lame even to Castiel.

"You should be," Lisa uttered. The wrinkle sharpened more. "Are you drunk?"

"Sweetheart, will you introduce us?" asked the man standing behind her.

"Of course." Lisa spared them one last glare and turned to her parents, smiling. "Mom, dad, this is Dean."

The rest Castiel remembered in pieces. Dean shaking hands with Lisa's parents, introducing Castiel, the courtesy conversation. The white picket fence, the kids and the dog appeared before his eyes again.

The next thing he remembered he was alone in the glass elevator, thinking that the day of their last concert had already begun.

The last concert. Then it will be over.

_TBC_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This is the last chapter. Thank you to all the lovely people who have been following this story and for your feedback that kept me going. I'm sorry for all the delays! Hope you will find this chapter to your liking.

The sounds of the screaming crowd and the voices of the reporters that had chased them from the backdoor to their car still rang in his ears as he watched guests filling the restaurant.

Lisa didn't want to waste time and scheduled the engagement dinner right after the concert. Dean and Castiel barely made it, having time only for a quick shower and a change of clothes – the dress code was Black Tie. It was times like this when Castiel appreciated having Chuck around – in no time he got them tuxedos that were a perfect fit which was somewhat creepy come to think of it.

He picked a corner in the spacious room and stayed there, keeping away from the entrance where Dean and Lisa greeted the arriving guests. He sipped on his champagne just because he needed to do something other than looking miserable and trying not to think of how handsome Dean looked in the tux. His biggest wish was to become invisible, melt into the wall to survive the evening. The one way airplane ticket that would take him far away already waited for him on top of a packed suitcase in his room downstairs.

His thoughts were interrupted when Dean turned around and caught his look, holding his eyes longer than it was necessary for a casual contact. Castiel raised his glass in acknowledgement and turned away before he could see the happiness in those eyes and know he wasn't the reason for it.

John and Mary Winchester arrived soon, followed by Sam and Gabriel. The group stood together for a while, chatting light-heartedly with Dean and Lisa. They didn't even notice Castiel at first, and Castiel was glad he had some time to compose himself.

"You look fabulous, Cassie," someone said behind his shoulder, and Castiel didn't need to look around to know who it was.

"I'm not in the mood for your flirtations, Balthazar."

"It's not a flirtation, silly. I just thought you might use some cheering up. You look like someone's lost kitten."

Castiel gave Balthazar a glare but before he came up with an excuse to get away Gabriel came up to them, giving his brother a tight hug.

"There's my little bro!"

"Hello, Gabriel."

"Don't you Gabriel me, you little bastard! Is it that fuckin' hard to give me a call once in a while?"

"I'm sorry, Gabriel. You know we have an insane schedule."

His brother snorted. "Insane is not the right word. I still can't believe Dean met his fiancé's parents for the first time at their engagement dinner!"

"Technically we met the night before," Dean's voice rumbled close to Castiel's ear. Next thing he knew Dean squeezed himself in between Castiel and Gabriel, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. "What is this little party about?"

"Why would you care, Dean-o? Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?"

Dean shrugged and threw a glance at Lisa. "I guess she'll be fine for a while." He turned to look at the side of Castiel's head. "You okay here? You've been quiet ever since we arrived."

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "Well of course he would be quiet. God knows what you did to him last night. I believe a copious amount of alcohol was involved."

"About that," Gabriel chimed in. "Do you know you guys made the front pages today?"

Dean let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, we saw it. Someone spotted us at the club last night. Alastair was furious. But then he found out that people kind of liked it so now he's cool with that."

Gabriel winced. "Believe me, finding a picture of your little brother in the embrace of his soon-to-be-married best friend is not the nicest way to start one's morning."

"Jeez, Gabe. Chill. We were just messing around. Cas is cool with that, aren't you, Cas?" He squeezed Castiel's shoulder. "Besides, given the fans' reaction, I think Alastair will include mandatory PDA's in our contracts."

"I don't think it is going to last, though." Balthazar gave Dean a mischievous look. "Given how things are progressing with your wedding, I believe Alastair will choose someone else for that role. Somebody more fitting." He winked at Castiel.

The hand on Castiel's shoulder tightened.

"I don't think that's gonna work, Balthazar." Dean's tone was playful. "Cas and I have a more profound bond."

The conversation was interrupted when Lisa came up to them saying they were good to start. The restaurant was full, save for the balcony where Dean and Castiel had dinner. Thick glass walls separated the guests from the chilly evening but they could still go outside for a breath of fresh air.

Castiel sat at a table with Sam, Gabriel and Balthazar. Castiel had the feeling that the latter wasn't supposed to sit there, given that the rest of the band occupied another table. Dean and Lisa sat at the table nearby surrounded by their parents. Mary beamed at her son and future daughter-in-law. John held her hand solemnly.

Castiel scanned the guests and caught Ellen's eyes. She winked at him and looked away, but he had a feeling the woman had been studying him for a while before he noticed.

The evening went on and the guests toasted the happy couple one by one, giving them their best wishes. Dean's parents went first, Lisa's followed, tears of happiness sparkling in the corners of their eyes. Ellen and Bobby, as Dean's second family, went after, adding a couple of funny (and somewhat embarrassing for Dean) stories about his childhood, making the guests laugh.

Castiel didn't dare look in Dean's direction, couldn't stand it, only praying the evening would end soon.

The conversation with Sam and Gabriel and dodging Balthazar's persistent advances provided decent distractions, but as speeches went, it was impossible to continue talking.

At some point, yielding to some sort of masochistic urge, Castiel looked up at his best friend to meet green eyes fixed on him. One of the guests was talking, saying something about how happy he was for Dean that he had finally found someone to settle down with, and all Dean did was staring at Castiel dreamily.

Castiel shook himself. This was ridiculous. Dean couldn't look dreamily at him. He was getting married, he was happy because he was marrying the woman of his dreams. Castiel blinked and Dean smiled, making Castiel's heart beat faster. It was the sort of smile partners in crime would share, having a secret nobody else knew. Castiel quickly turned away, starting to blush.

There was a pause after Sam's speech, and Balthazar used the pause to continue harassing Castiel. He was becoming more blatant with every Martini, and at some point attempted to take Castiel's hand that lay on the table beside his glass.

Castiel extracted his hand calmly. "I think you've had enough for tonight, Balthazar."

"You're wrong, Cassie," Balthazar sang. "_You_ haven't had enough yet." He took Castiel's hand again and said louder, so that all guests could hear him.

"Dean, I believe it is Cassie's turn, don't you think?" He gave Castiel a nudge. "Come on, Cassie, we know you must have something to say."

Castiel blanched. "Balthazar, no."

But it was too late. All eyes were turned to him expectantly.

"Yeah, Cas, he's right," someone said. "You're Dean's best friend, you should go next."

"I…" Castiel was horrified.

He hoped to spend the evening unnoticed and didn't count on making a speech. With all the latest events it somehow slipped his mind that he might be required to make one. Someone was already passing him the microphone.

Balthazar took him by the arm, urging him to stand.

"Balthazar, I'm not ready," he whispered through gritted teeth, standing up nevertheless.

"Bullshit. You must have something to say. Speak from your heart, Cassie."

Castiel would have laughed if he wasn't so stunned. What was on his heart was not what they could handle. He wasn't sure he had it in him to sell a convincing lie.

"He doesn't have to." A familiar voice broke the murmur among guests. Dean looked up from Balthazar to Castiel. "You don't have to if you're not up to it." His tone was light but firm.

"Oh, he is up to it, alright," Balthazar chuckled.

One of the chairs creaked against the wooden floor and Dean stood up. All eyes turned from Castiel to him. Suddenly all conversations stopped and the silence in the room became palpable.

"You don't have to do it, Cas," he said again and for an insane moment Castiel thought Dean wasn't talking about the speech, not entirely.

Castiel searched his numb brain for a proper response but to his relief he didn't have to. Mumbling an awkward "scuse me," Dean left the table, heading for the exit.

All eyes were now back on Castiel.

He found Dean in the men's room, standing in front of a half shattered mirror, head bent low and hands gripping at the sink. There was blood smeared against the knuckles of his right hand.

"Dean." The man startled at his voice but didn't look back at him. "What happened?"

Dean glanced impassively at the remnants of the mirror before him. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing. You're bleeding."

"It's just a scratch." Dean cradled his hand close to his body, hiding it from Castiel.

"Show it to me, Dean." Castiel used his most menacing voice. For the first time Dean shifted his eyes at him.

"I don't need anyone to mother me."

"I'm not here to mother you. Now would you please stop being such a baby and give me your damn hand? Please."

Holding his gaze fixed on Castiel's face, Dean outstretched his arm, letting Castiel to take him by the wrist.

"This looks deep." Castiel winced. "Let us go downstairs and find someone to patch you up. This place should have an in-house doctor."

"Cas, seriously, I'm fine. And to be honest, I'm not in the mood for seeing anyone. I don't want another article in tomorrow's newspapers."

"After what happened back there we'll definitely get another front page." Castiel sighed. "At least let me clean it up. I have an emergency kit in my room."

Dean nodded. "Okay. That I can do."

They ended up sitting on the cold Italian marble in Castiel's bathroom, leaning against one of the ridiculous wardrobes, still in their tuxes. Castiel's fingers were wrapped around Dean's wrist, thumb resting against his pulse, cleaning the cuts carefully.

"So," he started after giving Dean some time to cool down. "Are we going to talk about what happened there or continue to ignore the elephant in the room?"

Dean shrugged and Castiel had to tighten his grip.

"There's nothing to discuss. Balthazar was being a dick to you and I snapped. End of story."

"Only Balthazar was just drunk and he is not a dick. You know he's been trying to get to me since day one, more so after I, uh, came out. It doesn't bother me. I don't care."

"Well I do." Dean's fingers curved into a loose fist. "And it sure as hell bothers me," he added softer and Castiel looked up from his task, meeting a pair of bright green eyes. He registered Dean's pulse quicken under his thumb, and he pressed onto it harder, craving for the physical proof that Dean cared about him, that he meant something to him.

As if sensing it, Dean maneuvered his hand from Castiel's grip and entwined their fingers together, pressing their joined hands to his chest.

"It drives me mad. You have no idea how."

Castiel lost all ability to speak, and just listened, pinned to his spot. Dean went on as if something broke inside him and he was unable to stop now.

"Ever since we met. But I knew I could never have you. We've never talked about it and you are so reserved. So I've moved on and met Lisa. Now can you imagine how I felt when you kissed me at that damn gig?"

"Dean," Castiel croaked and brought up his free hand, but it stopped mid-way, hovering in the space between them. He couldn't believe how blind he had been that whole time. He was so obsessed with his crush that he didn't see what his best friend was going through.

Dean caught his hand and pressed it to his lips, kissing the knuckles, then turning it around and kissing the inside of his wrist.

"I'm so sorry, Cas. I've been such an idiot."

Castiel's heart sank at his broken voice. He couldn't stand hearing it. "Don't say that. You don't mean that, Dean."

Dean laughed bitterly, his breath warm against Castiel's skin. "Oh yeah? In that case tell me, Mr. Know-It-All, what the hell I am doing in here? Aren't I supposed to be upstairs with my beautiful fiancé and our families? And yet here I am, sitting on the bathroom floor in a fucking tuxedo."

Castiel stared at him, speechless yet again, struggling to find one single reason to prove Dean wrong.

Seeing him at a loss, Dean smiled sadly and moved closer, their noses brushing.

"People choose to be in the places they find themselves in, Cas." He whispered against Castiel's face. "Accidents don't exist."

Their lips touched, tentatively at first, Castiel's head spinning from what was happening. In his wildest dreams he couldn't imagine their first real kiss to happen on the bathroom floor several stories below the place where their families and friends were waiting for them to return.

Dean put his hands on Castiel's face and deepened the kiss, Castiel letting him in without hesitation. It felt like the most natural thing to do, as if they'd been doing this forever, but the sensations it sent through his body were like nothing he'd ever experienced.

Dean's hands slid under his jacket to wrap around his waist, pulled him up and pressed against the wooden surface of the double door.

"Dean, wait," Castiel's numb fingers pressed against the pristine white button-down, pushing Dean away, breaking the contact as he cursed himself for what he was about to do. He'd been craving for this for so long, thought about it every godforsaken day of his existence. But part of him knew it was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Dean stopped kissing him but didn't move away. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing heavily. "Shit. I'm so sorry."

"Dean, look at me." He took hold of Dean's shoulders and forced him to meet his eyes. "We can't do it. Not like this."

Dean stared at him, his eyes full of green fire. Castiel wondered if his words even registered in his friend's mind.

"You made a promise, Dean. Deep in your heart you know this is wrong."

Dean gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into the flesh of Castiel's sides. It would have tickled if it wasn't so painful.

"Then what the hell I'm supposed to do?!" he growled, his lips trembling.

A wave of tenderness washed over Castiel's heart. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many words that would remain unspoken, buried in the dust of their past and the future that would never come.

He thought about the rectangular piece of paper lying on his suitcase.

"You're a good man, Dean. You have to do the right thing."

Dean took a sharp shuddering breath and buried his face in Castiel's neck. Castiel closed his eyes and savored the moment, thinking that it was the best and the saddest minute in his life.

Dean took one more shaky breath and moved away, looking more composed now. He planted a kiss on the corner of Castiel's mouth and nodded, resolved.

"I know what I have to do."

The End


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_One year later._

Heavy raindrops slid against the car window, merging with each other, and continued their way down at a faster pace; it had been raining ever since the plane had landed.

Castiel relaxed further into the leather seat and sighed, basking in the atmosphere of his hometown flashing behind the wet glass.

It was good to be back after being away for so long. After a year of new places, new people and events his heart ached for the place where he grew up and for the people that he held dearest. It was strange to be back like this, as a guest in his own town, having to stay at a hotel rather than at his own place. While he was away, he arranged for an agent to sell his tiny old apartment and now he somewhat regretted it. First thing he would do the next morning was to call his agent and ask him to find a new, bigger place.

He didn't want to stay with his parents, trouble Gabriel or the Winchesters, even though Mary had been insisting their house should be the first stop. The long trip has tired him and he wanted to have a short rest first, wash off the dirt of the road.

He looked at his hands and couldn't recognize them: they were dark as a nut and still smelled like sun and the white sands of Matamanoa beach.

He smiled to himself at the memories and stretched lazily, providing a temporary relief to his sore muscles. The driver noticed his motion.

"We will arrive shortly, Mr. Winchester. I am sorry it took us quite some time. The traffic is heavy due to the weather."

Castiel nodded and turned to the man sleeping on the seat beside him. His hair turned from dark blond into sheer golden and the freckles were now sprinkled all over his tanned face. He looked so young and relaxed that Castiel felt bad for having to wake him up. He brought up his hand and touched his cheek.

"Dean."

"Hmmph," said Dean and opened his eyes, blinking. "How long have I been out?" he asked, his voice groggy.

"It's been about an hour."

Dean groaned and moved closer, resting his head on Castiel's shoulder. "I think I could sleep for ages."

Castiel smiled and wrapped his arms around his husband.

The rain was pouring even harder when the valet opened the car door, wishing them a good evening. Dean slid out of the car first and before Castiel followed, he turned to the driver to thank him, and added, smiling:

"Oh, and it is actually _Novak-Winchester_."

Dean was waiting for him near the car, surrounded by a crowd of people: fans and reporters, flashing their cameras at them. Several bodyguards appeared out of nowhere to make sure nobody violated their boundaries, but Castiel didn't mind seeing all those people. In fact, despite the weariness, he was happy to see them. God only knew how they found out the Leads were coming back home.

The crowd that was loud enough before burst in applause when he emerged from the car. Dean turned around to meet his eyes and then reached out to take Castiel's hand in his and entwined their fingers together. The crowd cheered, and Dean pulled him closer to kiss him with dizzying force.

"So much for a quiet return, huh?" Dean murmured against his lips. Castiel laughed.

They posed for the cameras a little longer and then rushed towards the hotel entrance, soaking wet, surrounded by the cheering of the delighted crowd.


End file.
